


A Road Covered With Blood

by sevendeadlyfun



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Alternate Reality, Challenge Response, Episode Related, Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-06
Updated: 2010-09-06
Packaged: 2017-10-11 13:06:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 29,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/112728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevendeadlyfun/pseuds/sevendeadlyfun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if everything you thought was true was a lie?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_ **A Road Covered With Blood** _

Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: This was written in response to the Just Rewards/Fang Fetish Round 7 Alternate Universes/Dimensions Challenge.  I know that the first chapter doesn't seem like it fits the challenge. All will be made clear in the next chapter. Trust me?

Summary: What if everything you thought was true was a lie?  


Xander shuffled down the sidewalk, not really paying attention to the press and rush of people around him. It was Friday night. Date night. It was spring with hints of summer, a subtle thickening in the air stirring hormones on dance floors. Xander just kept walking, head down. No need to watch the spectacle if he couldn't join in; and he couldn't.

He'd gotten tired of enthusiastic speeches and well-meaning pep talks. Africa had been his salvation and his destruction. It got him away from the go go Xander chats, but dropped him straight in the middle of war, famine, disease, and preternaturally strong girls with little trust for a super-pale man wanting to take them far away to "train". He'd learned, though.

Africa was familiar in a way he couldn't explain. Leftover hyena bits, perhaps or maybe it was just DNA memory that made those grassy plains and gigantic sky seem like home. Eventually, he found what little balance he could out there under the stars and decided to pack it in.

He'd requested a transfer back to the States. Anyplace with hot water on demand, television shows in English, and a few bad guys to fight. He'd thought long and hard about just giving up. It certainly would be easier, after all, to just pretend that nothing big or bad lurked in the shadows. In the end, he'd decided that he needed to keep fighting. There are some things you can't unlearn and if he didn't fight, what else would he do?

Giles had listened, really listened, to him. He heard what Xander said, and Xander suspected he also heard what he didn't say. Giles could be spooky like that.

"Yes, well, I wondered when this would happen," Giles had told him gently. "You're a grown man, Xander and it's only right that you should want to go your own way. I admit, I feared you'd…"

Xander smirked as Giles sought delicately for the right word. "Thought the Xan-Man would give up, huh? Nah, I'm not that smart."

"Indeed," Giles met his eyes. "I thought you would give up. I've noticed a certain bitterness creeping into your reports and Buffy has told me of your conversations. I was…concerned."

Xander sighed at that. "Buffy ratted me out."

"Not precisely," Giles smiled. "She simply passed on her worries that you were becoming burnt out with your Slayer retrieval."

"Well," Xander shook his head. "No, not that. Well, okay, yeah I don't want to do that anymore. But, it's just…there are some things you can't un-see, you know?"

"Yes," Giles agreed sadly. "I do know."

Giles had sent him to Cleveland. Faith and Robin were working to contain the Midwestern Hellmouth and doing a pretty darn good job. Cleveland wasn't Sunnydale, wasn't anything like it. Robin pointed out that while Cleveland had some spectacularly incompetent politicians, not one of them had been bent on world domination. Well, at least not the demonic kind.

"This is quieter," Faith told him when he arrived. "Ohio is…weird, but not in the same way. The monsters keep it quiet. I'm pretty sure that it's some Midwestern code or something, the whole quiet and polite thing. I even had a vamp stop and give me directions when I got turned around in a cemetery. Let me tell you, that is way freakier than anything in Sunnydale."

Faith and Robin had a thing going. Xander wasn't sure if they were dating or screwing or just ended up as the bestest of friends. Whatever it was, it was cautious and clean. Nothing like the scary Faith and hellbent Robin he remembered.  They were…nicer, calmer than they had been before.

Still, he wouldn't live with them. They'd both offered to put him up, told him it was no big. Xander turned them down. He needed his own space and he wasn't living on a Hellmouth ever again. He lived in a non-Hellmouthy town about 45 minutes south of Cleveland.

Akron still got its share of beasties, baddies, and plain old demons. Nothing that approached Hellmouth level, just a random assortment of slay worthy candidates and average demons that left you alone and went about their lives. Nothing he couldn't handle without a Slayer. When they called for back-up, he went. Beyond that, he just kept to himself.

He couldn't work, in the traditional sense of that word. Losing an eye meant losing options. He debated going to college and had even taken a few courses online. But in the end school still didn't interest him. He no longer thought he was stupid, but his tastes didn't run to academia. He wanted to do things, not study them.

So, he took his salary from the Council and bought a house. A house that needed lots of work, and it was nice to get his hands on tools again. Tearing down drywall and installing cabinetry reminded him of when his life seemed set, simple, and sweet. Back when he had two eyes, good friends, and a normal job. Back when he remembered how to love and how to be loved.

Lost in thought, Xander didn't see the large figure as exited the night club. He just kept walking, head down. The collision was jarring, and Xander bounced backwards, a ready apology on his lips. Great, he thought sourly, the gimp does it again.

"I'm s….Clem?"

The pink floppy skinned demon smiled, and waved excitedly.  
"Hey! Xander, right? Wow, didn't expect to run into you. Well, I meant I didn't expect to see you here and I didn't expect that run into you. What brings you to Akron? Is the Slayer here? I'd sure like to see her again. She was nice," Clem finished his monologue with a smile.

"Uh, hi," Xander waved, a little dazed by the flow of words. It had been a long time since he'd had to deal with babble on this scale. Hell, on any scale as he most didn't talk to people these days.

"Did you come for the show," Clem asked him curiously. "He's still in there, and it's open mic night. Usually you need an appointment or an Otherwordly intervention, but sometimes he just lets you in. I wasn't gonna come, but you know how sometimes you just want to hear someone else tell you? It helps."

Xander shook his head, but smiled. He had no idea what Clem was talking about, but this was the first conversation he'd had in a while that hadn't seemed like a minefield of memories. He had forgotten what it was like to just talk, shoot the shit, pass the time and not have it all blow up in your face.

"Nah, I'm not here for any particular reason," Xander said easily. "Just taking stroll. What are you doing here? In Akron, I mean, not standing on this particular sidewalk."

"Oh, well Spike told me to split. He said just because the world was going to hell was no reason to stick around for the pre-show. I have some family here and this seemed as good a place as any. No more Hellmouths for me, that's for sure," Clem explained.

"Same here," Xander agreed. "I'm Hellmouth free and lovin' it."

"You know," Clem began awkwardly. "It's probably none of my business and I know you're real close with the Slayer and all so maybe I shouldn't say this. But, you don't look so good. You're all wavery."

"Wavery?" Xander wasn't sure that was really a word and if it was he didn't know what it meant.

Clem sighed heavily, scratching behind his ears. "You know, this would probably be easier if you talked to more demons. I mean, not right this second but just in general. I figured Anyanka would have explained…uh, not that I'm saying anything bad about her. Anyanaka's a fine woman and even if you didn't marry her, I'm sure you had excellent reasons and this isn't going so well, is it?"

Xander snorted and tried to smile. Clem meant well. There wasn't a mean bone in the demon's body. Of course, Xander wasn't really sure what was in Clem's body. He knew there were tentacles involved somehow, someway but beyond that, he was pretty uncertain.

"Okay, let me try this again," Clem pleaded. "Go inside, see this guy, all right? Something's off with you, and maybe he could help. There, that came out not so bad!"

Xander matched Clem's grin with one of his own. He'd been there, struggling for words and trying to explain the unexplainable. It was tough, but getting it right was a pretty sweet moment.

"You think I need some whatever this guy does," Xander asked skeptically.

"He's like a psychic, only not. He helps you figure out your path," Clem explained cheerily, obviously happier now that the conversation was on solid footing. "He's pretty good."

"What did he help you with?"

"Oh, he got me to see that I should take this new job," Clem bounced excitedly. "I was worried it wouldn't work out, but Lorne told me to take a chance. So first thing tomorrow I'm going to call and see if they still want me."

"New job, huh? Doing what? " Xander smiled, catching some of Clem's infectious good mood.

"Managing the pet store," Clem told him proudly. "Two Turtles, the one in the little plaza."

"Clem! You eat kittens! Isn't managing a pet store a bit…well, not good," Xander finished lamely.

"I was sorta worried about that myself. There's only so much temptation a demon can take, right? But this store does aquatics and reptiles only, so no temptation. Lorne helped me see how right this was for me. Maybe he could help you too?" Clem shrugged, obviously trying not to be pushy.

"So I just go in there and ask for Lorne," Xander mused.

"Yep," Clem confirmed. "Can't hurt, right?"

"Oh it could hurt," Xander disagreed. "But what have I got to lose?"

After a promise to catch-up later and a lengthy good-night good-bye session, Xander watched Clem walk away and looked up at the sign above the door.

"Babylon," he groaned. "Just what I need, a mystical counselor set up in a gay bar. This could go so wrong in so many ways."

He shrugged and opened the door. He hadn't been exaggerating when he told Clem he had nothing left to lose. What else could the world possibly take from him?


	2. A Road Covered With Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if everything you thought was true was a lie?

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: This was written in response to the Just Rewards/Fang Fetish Round 7 Alternate Dimensions/Universes Challenge. Hopefully, this will make more sense now that all some is revealed. The song Xander sings in this chapter is "You Never Even Called Me By My Name" by David Allan Coe. It just seemed to fit him...::shrugs:: As always, I'm a feedback whore.

Summary: What if everything you thought was true was a lie?

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

Xander made his way through the fashionable gloom of the dance club. The crowd he had expected was noticeably absent. The place was so empty it echoed. The only people in evidence were a muscle bound bartender slowly wiping the shining counter and a shadowy figure sitting in the far corner.

"Hey," Xander called out hesitantly, hand straying to his back pocket.

He couldn't put his finger on why he felt so jumpy. Nothing in the room screamed out imminent doom. But he was a true child of the Hellmouth. If something got you wigged, best to have something pointy on hand to de-wig.

"Clem sent me in," Xander continued casually. "Said you might be able to help me with my, uh, wavery-ness."

"Sing." The hoarse voice sounded tired and unfriendly.

"Sing?" Xander asked in disbelief.

"Aww, you can repeat one syllable words," the voice mocked. "That's great, pumpkin. Now, sing or go away."

"Sing, right," Xander returned. "What?"

"I thought we'd established. You sing," the voice barked. "I'll tell your not-so-glorious future and we can all move on with our lives."

"Yeah, we did establish that," Xander snapped. "What we didn't establish is what you want me to sing. A Spice Girls medley? Row Row Your Boat? What?"

"Whatever," the voice returned, sounding slightly mollified. "Just sing. I've got a killer headache and there aren't enough Sea Breezes on the planet to put me in a good mood. Now, sing."

Xander thought for a moment. With the exception of the All-Singing All-Dancing All-Burning extravaganza he'd called up, and hadn't that worked out well, he'd never been much of a singer. Well, when in doubt, go with what you know. Xander closed his eyes and began to sing.

"And I'll hang around as long as you will let me.  
  And I never minded standin' in the rain.  
 But you don't have to call me darlin', darlin'.  
 You never even called me by my name."

As Xander let the last words trail away, he opened his eyes. The sarcastic comment he'd been planning to make died on his lips as found himself face to face with flaming red eyes.  
"Who the hell are you," Red Eyes asked, "and where the hell have you been for the last several years?"

"Uh, Xander Harris, Sunnydale and Africa and any chance you could back your demon ass up," Xander shot back. "Nothing against demons, well okay nothing against some demons, but you are way inside my bubble."

The red-eyed demon nodded sharply and back away. Now that he wasn't standing so close, Xander could see bright emerald skin and red horns. Not a species of demon he was familiar with, but the guy hadn't tried to eat him or sacrifice him yet, so Xander was willing to let this whole situation ride.

"I'm Lorne and you are quite the troublemaker," the demon told him.

"Me? Trouble? Nope," Xander shook his head. "I am distinctly non-trouble."

"Oh, really? Then explain to me how we all ended up in the wrong reality thanks to you," Lorne demanded.

"We huh what? What are you talking about?" Xander stammered.

"It's not supposed to be like this," Lorne yelled.

"Whoa, slow down there Kermit," Xander said soothingly. "What's not supposed to be like this and how is any of it my fault?"

"Sweetie," Lorne smiled charmingly. "If you call me Kermit again, I'll sing a note that will turn your lovely head to pulp."

"And I'm backing away from the slightly crazy demon," Xander said quietly, raising his hands.

"I'm not crazy," Lorne sighed. "Oh that it were so. Sadly, this is all wrong and even more sadly, it's your fault. You know about alternate dimensions, right?"

"Sure," Xander nodded. "There's the world of perpetual Wednesday and the world without shrimp and a bunch of others that I'm not really sure about. But, alternate dimensions, sure, I know."

"Well, in addition to alternate dimensions, there are alternate realities," Lorne continued. "Theoretically, there are millions of them. Choices made or unmade can veer a reality off in different directions. That's where you come in."

"Me," Xander stated flatly. "I made or unmade a choice that led to an alternate reality."

"Yeah and whatever you did or didn't do was a doozy," Lorne told him. "None of this was supposed to happen. After the whole big showdown with the Senior Partners, I went looking for a little solace, you know? You lose all your friends and your murder virginity in one night, you're bound to need a little pick me up, right?"

Xander could only nod dumbly. Senior Partners meant Angel. Angel who was dead, dust in an alleyway, right next Spike who had died after coming back. Spike, twice dead in defense of the world, who hadn't told them he was back. Spike who Xander wanted to see again, to apologize and acknowledge the vampire's heroism. Spike and Angel, dead because of him, apparently.

"Guess what I get? Instead of The Powers erasing my memories, they give me a mission," Lorne laughed hollowly. "Find out who screwed up and make them fix it. You'd think all-powerful entities could tidy this up, but no. Human actions made it and human actions have to unmake it."

"And this means what? I have to go back in time and figure out what I did or didn't do and…no. Oh no," Xander protested. "I do, don't I? You seriously want me to go fix whatever it is."

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," Lorne told him sadly. "Freddles was never supposed to die, Angel had a whole lot of destiny left to fulfill…everything got screwed up."

"How do you know it's me," Xander wanted to know. "Maybe it's somebody else."

"The pipes never lie, Chocolate Drop," Lorne grimaced. "Your demon honey? She's not supposed to be dead either. She had a redemption to earn, and her very own mission coming her way."

"Redemption? Anya? You mean she's…"Xander suddenly couldn't speak, his throat closing around words he couldn't bear to utter.

"In hell, yeah," Lorne sighed. "Along with Spike and Angel. Fiery torments of the damned and all that."

"They died saving the world." Xander could barely choke the words out.

"And for their trouble they got bupkiss, " Lorne stated baldly. "If everything hadn't shifted, they'd still be alive. Alive and on their way to being redeemed. Happiness, shiny lights and a heavenly dimension at the end of the tunnel."

"What do I have to do," Xander demanded fiercely.

"So glad you asked. Come sit over here," Lorne beckoned him forward.

This was so wrong on so many levels. He wasn't spotlight guy. No way anything he did or didn't do could affect entire realities. But, he wasn't willing to risk Anya or Spike or Angel's eternal torment on the off chance the green guy was right. If that meant traveling through time to find the right reality, well suit him up. Xander Harris didn't abandon his friends.


	3. A  Road Covered With Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if everything you thought was true turned out to be a lie?

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: This was written in response to Just Rewards/[](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/profile)[**fangfetish**](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/) Round 7 Alternate Realities/Dimensions challenge. I have to go out of town for two weeks, so this will be my last update till July. Don't throw things, I promise it will be updated. Just not for awhile...::cringes::

Summary: What if everything you thought was true turned out to be a lie?

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

"So," Xander asked, following Lorne to the back of the nightclub, 'how's this gonna work? Because not that I don't trust you, but I don't want you controlling my vertical or horizontal, you know?"

"Don't worry, sweetcheeks," Lorne grimaced. "You're a little too…humanitas for my taste. Besides, while I give a mean rendition of "Mustang Sally", hurtling through dimensions is not especially my forte."

"Right," Xander nodded. "I'll just sit here and think really hard then. Maybe with my massive super-secret dimension powers I can just hurtle myself. Oh wait, that's right! Boring old humanitas here, fresh out of dimension powers."

Lorne chuckled softly, and bestowed what Xander figured was possibly the creepiest smile he'd ever seen. Having gone toe to toe with Angelus, Spike, a Hell God, and various unsorted beasts and bumps in the night, Xander was pretty sure that seeing a creepier smile was theoretically impossible. Also, not a good a sign of things to come.

"Let's get this straight, my luscious little latte," Lorne murmured sweetly. "I don't like you. I'm sure you're a likable guy, what with the ruining of entire realities and all. But right now? You are the person I despise most in all of this and possible several other realities. So sit down and try not to do anything that might irritate me, okay?"

Xander sat, only mildly offended. Being liked was low on his priority list these days. Sure, he didn't want to be actively despised. Tolerant indifference was really his goal. But, in the end, he was fresh out of care. All he could think about was Anya, trapped somewhere being punished for her days as D'Hoffryn's finest. Or Spike, lost and alone, like he had been in the basement, searching desperately for some way to expiate his sins. Jesus, even the thought of Angel in Hell had him in a panic.

Partly that panic came from the genuine feelings he had for them. No matter how much he had hated them, and he had hated them all at one time or another, they'd done right by him and the world in the end. Surely that counted for something, right? Obviously not, though and that was where the other half of his panic came from. If their contributions had not been enough, what did that say about him? Was he too destined for some hell dimension for his many slights and sins, the times he hadn't moved fast enough or hadn't cared enough? If just trying didn't cut it, if putting your heart and soul into the good fight wasn't worth a golden ticket…Xander shuddered, refusing to follow that line of thought to its conclusion.

"Wow. I've seen you make some truly pathetic faces, Xan, but that one? Must be the most pathetic one yet."

"Wha…Cordy?" Xander jumped up, startled out his "all roads led to torment" thoughts by that familiar voice.

"Yep," she smiled, that famous thousand-watt Queen C smile that had captured his heart and other distant portions of his anatomy in high school. "The genuine higher being article in the not so flesh!"

"Higher being?" He stared, confused for the umpteenth time that night.

"Long story," she told him airily. "Seer for the Powers, hijacked by a higher power, ascension due to death by mystical coma. You know, the usual."

"Ah," Xander forced the word out. "Dead? You're dead. What was in the water back there? Nobody from Sunnydale ever stays dead. Well, yeah they do, but you know what I mean."

"Rarely and for that I'm extremely grateful," she said with a loving smile that took away the sting of her words. "But enough about me. Let's talk about you, Oh Shaper of Realities."

"About that," Xander said uncomfortably. "Cordy, how is this possible? I get the mumbo-jumbo about choices and all that. But, why me? I'm just…me. Nothing special here."

Cordy snorted, rolling her eyes. "And here we are again. You know Xander, sometimes you can be truly endearing. This "nothing special" stuff kinda takes away from that."

"Endearing, huh? Here I thought I was lame with a side order of pathetic," he grinned.

"Nah," Cordy shook her head. "Just a little slow on the uptake. Anyways, since Lorne explained all the background info, we'll just get you moving."

"Uh, about that," Lorne said hesitantly. "I,uh, I might not have actually explained it so much as…"

"As what?" Cordy whirled around. "Lorne, how the hell is he supposed to fix it if he doesn't know anything? You know, that whole "knowledge is power" crap is actually less crap and more vital to the success of this whole freaking yahoo trip."

She turned back to Xander and he flinched. The look on her face was damn near deadly in its intensity. Nothing stood in the way of Cordelia with that look and dying hadn't dimmed her power one bit.

"What do you know," she asked intently. "Tell me exactly."

"Somewhere along the way, I made or didn't make a choice that turned reality into a different reality and now people are suffering," Xander said quietly. "I'm supposed to go back and, I don't know, re-do it?"

"Shit," Cordelia breathed. "Shit shit shit."

"Are higher beings allowed to curse like that," Xander asked, only half-joking.

"Oh boy, you have no idea," Cordy answered distantly, lost in thought. "Heavenly dimensions can get pretty raunchy sometimes."

She paced the floor. Well, not so much the floor as the few inches above the floor. Xander had always suspected that Cordelia considered herself above the mere mortals around her. Guess she was right, he snickered to himself.

"Okay," she said finally. "It's like this, Xan. Lorne didn't tell you the whole truth. It takes more than one choice to alter a reality. Honestly, if it didn't, realities would be fracturing all over the place. And not all choices have that much affect on reality. So you buy a half-fat mocha latte instead of a skim caramel latte? In the grand scheme of things that only matter to your waistline, which is mighty trim these days, by the way."

"Thanks," he answered gravely. "It's my new diet. Grief and grapefruit. I imagine it'll catch on any day now."

" Grapefruit is really over, Xander," she shot back. "You'd know that if you bothered to surface every decade or so. What we're talking about, though, is not one choice you made or didn't make but a series of them. It's not like you did or didn't do one thing and boom! Reality shift. This happened so gradually that by the time we were in the next reality, it was too late for the Powers to step in."

"So, I didn't just fuck up once, but repeatedly," Xander grimaced. "Good to know the old Xan-man power for destruction is still holding strong."

"Stop," Cordelia ordered him. "Despite what Lorne may have said, this isn't your fault."

"My friends are suffering eternal damnation because I made a series of mistakes," Xander shot back. "Hard not to see that as fault."

"Did you do it on purpose? Did you wake up one morning and go, I think I'll alter reality for giggles? Didn't think so," Cordy said softly. "You and both know that sometimes things go bad. Hellmouth veteran to Hellmouth veteran, sometimes no matter what you do, the Apocalypse will come."

"I know. But I can't help feeling that if I'd gotten things right the first time, they'd still be here. Maybe…" Xander's gaze turned inward, and he closed his eyes. "Maybe if I were something more, better, I wouldn't have screwed up."

"Because you're the only one that ever screws up," Cordy challenged. "Did you miss the part about my fun body hijacking? You want to know how that happened? Choices I made led to me becoming a host for a very disturbing thing that sucked me dry and spat me out, and oh along the way destroyed the lives of the people closest to me. I know a few things about rotten choices, mister."

"Okay, okay," Xander held up his hands. "I surrender. Just…just tell me what I have to do."

"You have to fix it," Cordy said firmly. "And you will. I'll just send you back to the right reality. It'll be a little…weird, at first."

"Somehow, I'm not shocked," Xander told her dryly. "Weird how?"

"Well, I can't move you. Just your consciousness. Your body will be here and you'll be inside the body that exists in that reality," Cordy informed him and then she bit her lip. "And so will that Xander's consciousness."

"There will be two me's in one body, huh?"

"Yes, but the other you should gradually merge as the realities come closer together. Eventually," Cordy paused, seemingly searching for the right word. "Eventually, you should become…whole. Until than, he'll be there but you'll be driving the bus."

"All right," Xander told her. "Anything else I need to know?"

"Just one thing. You won't be reliving your entire life. This is going to be like selective replay, skipping you around to the times when what you did or didn't do altered reality. You might get a bit…"

"Confused?" Xander filled in.

"Nauseous," Cordelia contradicted. "Reality hopping can be hard on the stomach."

"I'll keep it in mind," Xander assured her. "We ready?"

"As ready as we'll ever be," she agreed. "Just close your eyes and get comfortable. Hopefully, I'll see you after."

"Hopefully?" Xander's eyes shot open. "What do you mean hopefully?"

"I don't know," Cordy shrugged. "If you get this right, you'll change reality and if the Powers know what that's gonna mean for all of us, they haven't told me. Maybe I'll be alive and fabulously wealthy far from here."

"Or dead for real," Xander whispered. "Fuck! How can I do this? If I don't, Anya and Spike and Angel roast. If I do, you might be gone."

He turned to her, real fear in his eyes. "Cordy, I don't think I can handle this."  
"You can," she reassured him. "There's no one I trust more, Xander."

"I hope you're right." Xander shuddered. "Let's just do this before I run screaming into the night."

"You got it," Cordy nodded.

The world tilted, and Xander felt himself falling. Life slid past him, words from his past echoing in his ear. The voices slurred and overlapped, rolling over him. He corkscrewed down and down, felt something tugging at him. Stronger than hands, stronger than spells, the something drew him in and he felt himself righting. With a thump, he was flesh again and as a wave of dizziness swamped him, he tried to get his bearings.

Whoa, Cordy was not joking about that nausea thing, he thought. Now where and when the fuck am I?

Looking around, all he could see were shadows and…black cotton? When in his life had he been trapped in a closet?

"Angelus!"

"Spike!"

"Oh no," Xander groaned weakly. "I'm fucking bait again. God, I hate my life."  



	4. A Road Covered With Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if everything you thought was real turned out to be a lie?

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Written in response to the Just Rewards/[](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/profile)[**fangfetish**](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/)/[](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) Alternate Realities/Dimensions Challenge. X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for fun. Give me feedback and I'll slip you some tongue :)

  
Summary: What if everything you thought was real turned out to be a lie?  


_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

  
Xander listened distractedly to the bullshit banter between Spike and Angel. It was bullshit the first time around and it was even worse this time. Before the whole Hellmouth extravaganza had gone down, Spike and Xander had had a lot of time to talk. Not only did Spike know Angel had a soul, but Angel knew Spike knew about the soul. It made this whole little scene not only ridiculous but pointless. Xander still hadn't forgiven Angel for putting his life on the line without a damn good reason. Death didn't bother him, but pointless death pissed him off.

Which really wasn't why he was here and he had to figure that out before he fucked this up. Otherwise, reality wouldn't shift or maybe it would, he still wasn't real clear on how this was supposed to work. Either way, if he fucked up, people suffered. That part he was clear on hence the necessity of figuring this out.

What didn't I do last time or did do that I'm not supposed to do and fucking A! he thought heatedly. You know, you send someone off to alter reality, you'd think you'd give them clearer instructions.

Then faintly, he heard his own voice buzzing in his ear.

Neat, the voice said. I was kinda worried I'd be a total loser when I grew up. But I gotta say, you seem kinda almost cool.

Great, Xander thought. I'm hero-worshipping myself. I don't remember being this much of a dork, so clearly hindsight is not 20/20. Hey, Xan-man, any idea what we should do here?

The Xander-voice was overlayed with a dark growl, Not prey not prey not prey...

Yeah! The Xander-voice was back, enthusiastic and loud. What she said, only, you know, not so much with the growl and more with the terrified squeak.

Xander smiled softly at himself. He'd forgotten about the hyena. She'd disappeared, or been dormant, for so long. He'd missed her for a while, missed her distinct presence in his mind and the comfort of not being alone in his head. No worries about that now, at any rate. And she'd reminded him of what he had wanted to do before and hadn't done out of fear. The Xander-voice's 'terrified squeak' had been his response the first time this happened.

Well, might as well go with the hyena's suggestion and see how it worked. After all, if this failed, he'd only be consigning his friends to hell and ruining the world on top of it. No pressure, right?

Xander wiggled slightly, curving his body and pivoting around. Angel, startled, released his hold just enough for Xander to get free. Bringing his arm up around Angel's neck, Xander snarled at the two startled vampires.

"William the fucking Bloody," Xander grinned. "Out for a night of fun and frolic? Taking in the sights, playing tourist and oh yeah, trying to kill the Slayer. Always up there for you, isn't it?"

"Xander," Angel hissed. "I think..."

"Shut it, Dead Boy," Xander snapped. "Spike's a lot of things, but he isn't stupid. What self-respecting vamp reeks of guilt the way you do? He knows Angelus isn't driving this particular bus, and even if he were, Spike isn't exactly Angelus' biggest fan."

"Who the bloody hell are you," Spike growled.

"Not your dinner, Bleach Boy," Xander shot back genially. "You think you can take me on, fucker, come on and try. I got done being the butt monkey years ago and I'm not scared of you. Okay, a little scared but mostly, I'm just pissed off."

Spike lunged, fist cocked and Xander swiveled out his way. Pretty damn funny when he thought about it, since Spike had been the one to teach him how to do that. Nothing like using a man...er, vamp's moves against him.

He released Angel, giving him a hearty shove that sent both vampires flying like bowling pins. They went down, legs tangling. Xander swooped in, grabbing Spike and throwing him against the wall. Heart pounding, Xander pressed Spike face-first against the wall, and latched his teeth onto the back of Spike's neck.

The blonde vampire howled, struggling against the knee shoved into his back. Dimly, Xander heard the swoosh and clatter of fighting behind him. Thank God Angel was good for something. Taking out those other vampires was least he could do, after dragging them both into this mess.

Xander pulled his mouth off Spike, leaning in a little more to whisper, "You remember this, Spike. You remember that the glorified bricklayer took you down. If you can't outwit me, how the fuck are you gonna take on the Slayer? Now, run home to Dru and give the Annoying One the spanking he deserves. But next time I see you, I want you to remember this and play nice with us kiddies, got me?"

Spike laughed, sharp and stacatto, like a gun retort. "Right, 'cause I'm gonna take orders from you."

"Might be smart, Spike," Xander breathed into his ear. "Could save you a lot of trouble."

Spike shifted in his grip, and Xander could hear the smirk in his voice. "Trouble's my favorite thing, pet."

With that, Spike whirled out his grasp and Xander was the one pressed against a wall. Spike held him there, golden eyes glittering with malice. Xander could only stare in fascination. After Spike had been chipped, after Buffy dying and a whole host of afters, Xander never really saw this side of Spike. The vampire had tried desperately to make them all forget that he was dead, that his body walked and talked and snarked because of the demon inside him. Seeing the demon's face, here and now, Xander couldn't help but stare. Almost without thinking, Xander lifted his hand and traced the curved ridges around Spike's eyes.

"I remember you," Spike rasped. "You were with the Slayer, one of her little chums out on the dance floor."

"Yeah," Xander confirmed. "That's me. I dance with Slayers and play pool with vampires. It's a thing."

"What else do you do,  I wonder," Spike murmured. "No much fear on you, boy. But, you've got something...there's something about you that just isn't quite right."

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," Xander informed him seriously. "Now let me go. You have a Slayer to fight."

"Takes some brass," Spike observed. "Issuing orders with my fangs at your throat."

Xander sighed heavily, observing Angel creeping up from behind. This could either go really well or he'd be dead in seconds. Well, at least this wasn't playing out like it had the first time. That had to count for something. Of course, he was pretty certain Cordy hadn't meant that he needed die to fix reality. Still, she hadn't been specific, so what the hell?

"You were a mediocre Mama's boy poet," Xander whispered. "You like soccer and a good stout, you miss the sun, and you think Ezra Pound is a comedian. Angel's behind you and you should either drain me or move on, because I'm pretty sure he's going to bash your head in."

Spike's eyes widened, and he whirled away from Xander. With a quick right cross as he flew past Angel, Spike called out, "Gonna have to tell me all your secrets one day, pet. Not fair that you know me without me knowing you."

Xander laughed, loud and long at the classic Spike exit. Spike was what he was, dramatic and difficult. Xander had forgotten, in all the intervening years, how exciting Spike had been before all the troubles of the Hellmouth wore him down. Xander walked over to stand above Angel, reaching out and offering him a hand up.

Angel stared at him appraisingly before accepting the hand. Rubbing his jaw, Angel opened his mouth and Xander held up a hand to forestall the barrage of questions he knew was coming.

"It's a long story, no I won't tell you and you're welcome," Xander said softly.

"I bet," Angel replied, voice equally low. "I thought you hated me?"

"I do," Xander shot back and then shook his head. "No, I don't. I was...I am jealous. You mean something to Buffy that I...I won't ever have what you have with her. I'll deal, I'll grow up and I'll appreciate what she and I have more than I think I can understand now. You've done some pretty rotten things and I think you're lying to yourself that Angelus is under control. But, you fight to good fight and you try, which is what matters, right? So, I don't hate you. Now, how about we..."

And the world tilted sideways again.  



	5. A Road Covered With Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What if everything you thought was real turned out to be a lie?

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Written for the Just Rewards/[](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/profile)[**fangfetish**](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/)/[](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) Alternate Realities/Dimensions Challenge. X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for fun. Bit of dialogue taken from the BtVS S2 episode "Becoming II". Will put out for feedback :P

Summary: What if everything you thought was real turned out to be a lie?  


_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

  
Xander grimaced at the feeling of flesh encasing him. This body, whichever Xander it was, felt smaller somehow. Limited in ways that didn't match his memories. Maybe this was the metaphysical version of 'you can't go home again', not fitting into your old body.

'Hey, you again!' Well, that's one of us accounted for and was it his imagination or did this Xander-voice sound tense?

'Anybody else up there?' Xander did a quick mental inventory, finding himself, the Xander-voice, a raspy growl that must be the hyena and a whole bunch of disjointed imagery of weapons and security clearances.

Right, soldier memories, he thought. So this is after Halloween, which means I'm where? Bushes, bushes and hey look! More bushes! Great, so I'm somewhere with foliage in Sunnydale. That narrows things down considerably. I've only hidden in the woods a million times. A little help would be nice, folks.

'Waiting for Buffy,' the Xander-voice informed him. 'Angelus is…'

"Shit," Xander swore aloud. "Acathla, re-ensouling, and my biggest asshole maneuver ever. Let it never be said I can't make a bad situation worse with a lie."

'Lie? What lie?' The Xander-voice sounded puzzled, as if the very concept of a lie were foreign to him.

"Don't worry, buddy," Xander murmured. "If I do this right, you'll never have to know what I'm talking about."

He saw a flash of gold and leapt from the bushes. Buffy started, jumping backwards. Her incredibly lame sword cover-up danced. Ah, the early years when none of them knew that you could lug an arsenal through downtown SunnyD with nary a questioning glance from the natives.

"Xander," Buffy exhaled, bringing her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Buff," he acknowledged, drinking in this younger version of his friend. This Buffy wasn't hard or brittle, yet. She looked relieved, happy even to see her Xander-shaped friend. But those lines around her eyes, tense and disbelieving, gave him a little preview of the Buffy he'd left behind.

"You're not gonna fight," she ordered him. "Get Giles out and run like hell, understood? I can't protect you. I'll be too busy killing."

Either reality had already started to shift or age really did impart a teeny bit of wisdom. The first time he'd played this scene, she'd sounded hard, sure of herself, ready for anything. Now, he could hear the quaver in her voice; see the unsteadiness in her steps.  
"Listen, Buffy, I hear and obey. But, take a breath, all right?" Xander placed a hand on her shoulder, steadying her as she walked. "Wills is awake and she says to hold it off. Keep Angel from becoming a one-hit wonder and she'll…"

"What, Xander? She'll what?" Buffy's voice was quiet, but it cut through him like a shriek. "Did she find a spare soul hidden under Angel's doormat? He's gone, Xander. Isn't that what you told me? Just another killer monster, and I should do my job, right?"

Another time, another place and he'd have gone all defensive. Hell, he still felt the need to pull a little of the old 'yeah like you never screwed up'. He just hugged her because she wasn't the bitch who lectured him about being scared in her 'everyone sucks but me speech' or the put-upon pal who told him to stay "fray-adjacent". She was still just a girl who loved someone who hurt her.

"I was wrong," he whispered into her hair. "I was wrong and you were right. Angel is a man worth saving. So let's save him."

She pulled back, those big hazel eyes shiny as she searched his face. He smiled down at her, and brushed away the lone tear that spilled over. Leaning down, he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. The only benediction he could give her, the only apology he could make, for fucking this up so badly the first time.

"I got your back, Buffster," he promised. "We'll keep Angelus busy so Willow can shove that soul right up his…"

"Xander," she protested, smacking his chest. "Naughty words should be saved for crucial moments during the Apocalypse, not squandered willy nilly beforehand."

He nodded solemnly, and walked up to the mansion side by side with the only hero he'd ever had.

"We still need to rescue Giles," she murmured to him as she mounted the steps.

"I'm thinking that Giles will still be rescueable after we stop Angelus," Xander replied. "If we don't stop him, it won't matter where Giles is what with the whole world sucked into Hell thing."

"Right." Buffy turned to him, panic swirling in those oh so young eyes.

He couldn't help her now. That had been the hardest part of being a Scooby. When it came down to it, she had to do it alone and he could only watch. Well, watch and offer himself up for random pummeling. Still, it hurt to see her like this. Sliced him to the bone to watch her prepare to die, and nothing he did or said could ease her burden even a little.

She stepped forward and it was game on. He did his bit, wielding a stake with finesse he hadn't possessed the first time around. In the back of his brain, the little portion of himself that managed to stay 'fray-adjacent', he could only marvel at how easily this body responded to his commands. The older possibly wiser Xander-bod didn't have the flexibility or stamina of this one.

'Ouch." the Xander-voice winced. 'No stamina? Say it ain't so.'

'Busy,' he thought back. 'Trust me, keeping THAT going isn't the issue. Now, shut up?'

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spike creeping up behind Angelus. Right, the whole deal that revolved around the enemy of your enemy. He'd kinda forgotten that in the rush to make things right. Random vamps dusted, he stood back to watch Spike whale on Angelus. Tire iron, nice choice, if a bit clichéd. That was Spike, though. Always had a soft spot for the classics.

Looks like Buffy was keeping Angelus busy, though. Witty banter back and forth, several sniping remarks about who had the least to offer in bed. A low blow about Buffy having no friends, a riposte about not needing them with sweetie pies like Angelus around.

Spike had gathered Drusilla close, eyes following the combatants. Xander watched as he shook his head, face screwed up in puzzlement. The look vanished quickly and Spike swept off.

Something tugged at Xander, and he strode off behind Spike. Buffy had the situation well in hand and right about now…a scream rent the air. Yep, Willow's Mojo Express, the 10:35 to Soulville had chugged into the station. Send the all-clear signal, folks.

He stood and stared at Spike tenderly inserting Drusilla into his evilmobile. Had he noticed this before, this deep down care that Spike took with those he loved? Xander didn't think he had or if he had, he'd blown it off. Seemed to be a pattern with him, this inability to notice the important bits. Must be why he'd turned everything into the suck.

"She'll never love you," he began conversationally. "No matter what you do, no matter how evil you are, she'll never put you ahead of Brood Boy."

Spike flinched, but didn't turn around. He just stood there, focused on Drusilla, fingers running through her hair. Xander sighed and turned to go. He wasn't even sure why he'd followed the bleached menace. Buffy was going to have her hands full with Giles and Angel.

"I know. But without her, what am I?" The words were so soft, so incredibly hollow, that Xander couldn't believe he'd heard them from Spike.

"You're William the Bloody, Slayer of Slayers and you were my friend," Xander told him honestly, unable to think of anything else.

Spike laughed bitterly, and finally moved to face him.  
"I don't go making friends with the food, wanker."

Xander couldn't help but agree. This Spike didn't make friends with the food. He was a killing machine, so damn good at what he did that he should have won a medal for carnage.

It was difficult to stand here and look at this Spike. So much like the Spike he'd known and eventually come to care about, and yet not that Spike. In a way, none of them were the people he'd known. A Buffy who hadn't had to send Angel to Hell, a Spike who didn't have a chip or a soul or a reason not to kill him, and a Dawn that didn't yet exist.

"You don't," Xander said softly. "But nothing ever stays the same, Spike. Not even you. The next time you're here, just don't hit me on the head, okay? I have enough brain damage to last me, thanks."

With that, Xander walked back into the mansion. That swirling tilty feeling washed over him and he just let it flow. He still wasn't entirely sure he could fix things, but this felt good. It felt right and maybe it was his imagination, but he could almost hear a bit of fractured reality snapping into place.  



	6. A Road Covered With Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 Overall

A/N: Written in response to the Just Rewards/[](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/profile)[**fangfetish**](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/)/[](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) Alternate Realities/Dimensions Challenge. Bits of dialogue taken from BtVS S3 episode "Lovers Walk"...X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for fun...feedback will be both appreciated and touched in its naughty place

Summary: Oh just read the darn thing...I suck at summaries :P

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

"Whoa." Xander sat very very still. The whole space-time queasiness was slowly improving, but he still wasn't up to any sudden movements. Especially considering the foul aroma floating just under his nose.

"Xander?" Willow's voice echoed in his ear. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, Wills," he replied automatically. "Peachy. So what's going on?"

He only half-heard her, straining as he was to find his own voices. He could hear faint chatter, but no discernible words. That must be a good sign. A good sign mitigated by the fact that he was ignoring a real live person while he searched for the voices in his head.

'Wow, and just when I thought none of this could get any weirder…'

  
He tuned back in just as Willow said, "…and this way you'll pass chemistry."

  
Chemistry, science lab, Willow, darkness…"Holy shit," he blurted out. "Are you doing a spell?"

She stared at him blankly for a long moment before replying slowly,"Nooo. Xander, I know chemistry might seem like magic, but really? It's science. Now pay attention! Oz and Cordelia are going to be hear soon."

He sighed in relief. No de-lusting spell meant he wasn't in any danger tonight. Well, barring the fact that Spike was going to be busting in here soon in search of witchy Willow. But, no danger of ruining reality by cheating on his girlfriend and damn it, why was he still dating Cordelia?

He liked Cordy, in any timeline. But it hadn't taken any real genius on his part to figure out that she wasn't his. Not his girl, not his love, not his one. He wasn't even sure he had a one, but if he did, she wasn't it. Still, no need to get the girl impaled.

"Uh, Wills? Not that I don't appreciate all the time and effort you put in to my GPA," he began, " but maybe we could study somewhere at little more vampire proof?"

The smell of smoke hit his nostrils, overpowering the noxious vapors of whatever crap Willow had bubbling away. He groaned quietly and spun around. Yep, nothing different here. Spike, drunk and depressed, looking for a quick fix. It struck Xander that Spike never really changed much. Kidnapping Willow in search of Dru's love morphed into getting a soul in hopes of having Buffy.

"Spike," Xander nodded. Huh, no fear. There should be fear. Spike with working fangs and no soul, so Xander went looking for mind-numbing, heart racing fear. Still couldn't find it. Maybe once you'd seen a man crying and trying to claw his soul out, fear sorta took a vacation.

"I need to borrow the little girl," Spike sneered. "You don't mind, do you?"

"Mind? Sort of, yeah," Xander told him, laying a comforting hand on Willow's shoulder. "But, somehow I'm guessing what I mind isn't really your top priority."

"Not really," Spike told him offhandedly.

"We'll go with you," Xander smiled. "Both of us."

Willow seemed to have found her fear. She trembled like a rabbit beneath his hand. Finding her fear must have displaced her voice, though because she didn't protest. She probably thought he had a master plan for slaying the bleach blonde.

'Seriously, has she met me? I don't plan.' Ah, there was the Xander-voice. A bit faint and far away, but finally there. Now he had two frightened teen-agers to calm. Lucky him, all that baby Slayer experience finally put to good use.

As they walked silently behind Spike, Xander kept up a stream of reassurances. He told Willow that they'd be fine; all Spike wanted was a love spell, so just give him what he wants and wait for the others to track them down.

Spike whirled around and like that, Xander had fangs at his throat. Again! Jeebus, this was starting to get annoying.

"Look, bleach for brains, I know I'm a nummy treat but this is too much," Xander bitched. "Either fucking bite me or put the bumpies away."

That must have shocked the unlife out of Spike because he did indeed shift back to his human face. Xander refrained from laughing at the puzzled look on Spike's face. It was impolite to mock your captor. Xander had learned that one years ago.

'Ah the sweet sweet teachings of the Hellmouth!'

"How do you know?" Spike grabbed him and shook him, fury written all over his face. "How do you bloody know what I wanted with the girl?"

Xander wanted to respond. He did. Only his brain was rattling so hard, it made speech impossible. He settled for a strong smack across the back of Spike's head.

"Ow," Spike yelled, the stunned look coming back to his features.

As the fist descended, one thought flashed through Xander's mind.

'Fuck! I told him not to knock me out this time!'

  
He woke up, as he expected, in the factory. Burned out vampire lairs didn't get any better the second time around. Neither did freaked out Willows, but he was the Master of Willow calming.

"Hey," he croaked. "Long time no see. How's about we blow this pop stand? Nice long weekend somewhere not Hellmouthy. Could be nifty."

"Xander," she sniffled. "Spike...he wants…he wants me to…"

"Yeah," Xander winced, sitting up. "I know. Love spell for Drusilla, kill us all, blah blah. Nothing new from Spike. How's about you? Anything new? Did you cut your hair?"

"What? No, I just started this new…Xander!" She smacked him across the arm. "Life or death situation here. No making of jokes when facing death."

"Hmm," Xander rubbed his arm. "I always thought that was the best time to make jokes."

"Smart lad," the familiar British voice drawled. "Laughing at death's a demon trait. And here I thought that the little Super-friends weren't allowed to be so naughty."

"Spike what you think…wait, I don't care," Xander sniped. "Can we get on with this? Not that this isn't thrilling, but I was in the middle of my "Glue in Many Lands" book. It's a real page turner. You know how that goes."

The vampire stalked into the room, coming to stand next to Xander. He knelt down; his face inches from Xander's.

"Look at this," he purred. "Puppy's got some teeth. Gonna give old Spike a nip?"

"A round of applause, witches and demons, for the lamest line," Xander smiled.

  
"Witch." Spike stood, turning his icy gaze on Willow. "Got yer stuff. Get to work before I decide two hostages is too much trouble."

Willow scurried, picking up ingredients and carrying them off. Xander tried to stand, to follow his friend. His plans were interrupted by a hearty shove.

"Sit down," Spike ordered him. "Witch doesn't need your help."

  
Xander sighed. It had taken forever and a chip to get Spike over this whole Big Bad crap. No way he could fix this in however long he was going to be here. Besides, undead interventions never went well.

"So how'd you know," Spike asked him casually. " 'Bout me an' Dru?"

  
"Lucky guess," Xander snapped back. Sure, the not cheating on Cordelia thing was great, but listening to Spike yap wasn't the way to get reality back on track. Maybe he was supposed to stake Spike?

"Want to stake me, eh?" Spike chuckled, low and disturbingly sensually. "Gimme what's comin' to me and all that? Well, I'm pissed and you're not hard on the eyes. Shove over."

"Who? What? Huh?"

Spike's lips swallowed up whatever other insightful protests Xander might have made. Spike's lips. Lips of Spike. Nice lips, actually. Firm, tasty lips that felt damn good as they teased and taunted and oh god! Again! It was happening again!

"No!" Xander pulled back, scrambling to get off the bed. "No, Spike. You're a good kisser and damn that was hot, but no. I have a girlfriend."

"You might have a bird, but yer prick says you'd like to have me," Spike leered.

"Yeah, maybe. But I try to keep my morals up in the big head," Xander said seriously. "What my dick wants and what I'll do are two different things. So thanks but no thanks."

"Xander, you ready?" Oz stood there, crossbow in hand. Xander could see Cordelia standing just behind him and wonder of wonders, she was unimpaled and didn't look pissed. He might just make it through this after all.

"Yeah," Xander said with a last look at Spike. "I think we're done here."

He sauntered over to join his friends, stopping only to drop a whisper in Spike's ear. The growl he received in return was worth taking that chance. Now, he just had to make things right with Cordy and it'd all be okay.

Reality fractured again, and as he spun off into the darkness he could hear Spike's reply.

"Now what the fuck did he mean by that? Get over Dru? Not likely, mate..."

Xander could only laugh helplessly and wondered if Spike really would take him up on his offer of a little personal staking…

  
 


	7. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Written for the [](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/profile)[**fangfetish**](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/)/[](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) Alternate Realities/Dimensions challenge. X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here just because :)

A/N 2: Yeah, this was supposed to be "Harsh Light of Day" but it kinda turned into something else....

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

  
The first thing Xander noticed was the stillness. There was nothing. No movement, not a sound. Everything within him was completely, utterly silent.

Galloping right behind that revelation was the fact that he had a dick in his mouth. Oddly, the lack of heartbeat bothered him more. Maybe he was just worn out from slipping and sliding through reality, or maybe his not-so-secret experimentation had given him a taste for man bits.

Shrugging, Xander put his tongue to good use. Whoever his partner was, they certainly had nothing to be ashamed of. His cheeks ballooned out as the long thick flesh pushed deeper inside him.

"Xan-der," his partner gasped. "Bloody fuck, luv...gonna…"

That was all the warning he got before his mouth began to fill with thick sticky saltiness. As Xander gulped frantically, he was mentally kicking himself. You tease one vamp and end up changing reality. You maybe couldn't have learned not to fuck up the first time around?

As Spike's frantic thrusting slowed and finally stopped, Xander just sat there. He absent-mindedly nursed on the organ in mouth while trying to take stock of his situation. There was a new presence in his head, and he was forced to conclude it was his demon.

Which wasn't a real shock, seeing as how he was dead and still sucking cock. The shock was that it wasn't a growling hissing monster. After seeing and dusting so many mindless vamps, he'd always assumed the demon was itself mindless.

But the presence in his head was…alive. That was the only way to describe it, really. It talked to him, whispering softly of its depraved desires. Unlike the hyena that simply existed as a part of him, the demon was almost tangible. It existed apart from him before and still. He could feel it tugging at him, gently leading him towards the mayhem that was its sole reason for being.

Spike was petting him now, fingers running softly through his hair. Those fingers were gentle, almost affectionate. The hands that picked him up and moved him into Spike's lap were gentle, cradling him close. The whispered words that urged him to bite down and drink were gentle, full of good humor and acceptance.

Holy shit, Xander thought as blood trickled into his mouth, Spike loves me. Or this me, the Xander demon me, which is close enough to me in a not me way.

He couldn't stop the demon from pushing forth to claim the blood it craved, so he just rode it out. What would have been repulsive as a human was satisfying to this still cool body. The blood spoke to the demon, comforted it with its familiarity. He could feel it, the demon and its needs, its desires. But they existed apart from him, as something he saw but did not participate in. He figured it was because he didn't belong here, in this body. He was a hitchhiker in his own undead body. Man, the things he'd do to get good party conversation…

"So," Spike said lazily. "You gonna tell me who you are or should I just guess?"

This was so close to what Spike had said to him before, and he was still lost to the sensuality of the demon's responses. It took him a minute to understand that Spike, this Spike, knew he wasn't…dead or demonic or whatever. Knew it and still allowed him to slice through his flesh with razor-sharp fangs.

'Huh. Either Spike is much stupider than I ever possibly dreamed or he's got the biggest set of balls on the planet. Possibly both.'

"I'm Xander," he finally replied, pulling back from his position at Spike's throat.

"Is that a fact," Spike answered.

"Yep," Xander told him. "This is Xander's body and I'm Xander."

Spike stared at him skeptically for a moment, and then lifted one eyebrow. It was so essentially Spike that Xander almost laughed. Since not all of his brain cells had been damaged, he managed to contain himself.

"Notice you said this was Xander's body and not yours," Spike murmured, running a finger down his cheek.

"Yeah, well…" Xander sighed. "I am Xander and this is Xander's body. We just aren't the same Xander."

Spike smiled in satisfaction at that answer, ruffling Xander's hair. Xander could only stare at him in confusion. What the hell did that mean? Did it mean something?

He could hear the demon still; its words running through him like an icy stream. It wasn't fighting him, it just wanted him to do its bidding. The demon craved, and at least half of those cravings revolved around the man…vampire in front of him.

"You're his Sire," Xander said aloud in wonder. "You picked him for eternity. When the hell did that happen?"

"Not too long after Dru died," Spike answered, still stroking his face. "Blew into town lookin' to save her. Never did find the cure for what that mob did to her. Found you, though. Well, him."

"Let me guess, he was dancing at the Bronze?"

"Yeah, him and his little redheaded girl," Spike smiled beatifically, a smile that belonged to creatures both purer and more wicked than Spike could ever claim to be. "Right tasty pair they are."

  
"So, you took Willow too," Xander said, not a hint of doubt in his mind.

Spike sighed, a frown replacing that beautiful smile. "Took her first, actually. That girl had a darkness in her you could sense from a mile off. Only turned him 'cause she bloody whinged about for weeks."

Xander couldn't even muster a bit of surprise. He'd been second place, second choice so often. It was what it was and he stopped being hurt by it.

Spike growled, dragging Xander close to him and claiming his lips for a punishing kiss. Xander submitted to it, the demon teasing the edges of his consciousness with gleeful punishing urgency. This mouth made him, and he wanted it on him, in him, taking him again and again and…

The sound of Spike's voice snapped him from his mental free fall.

"You might not be him, but you've got the same damn issue," the vampire snarled. "He's too old to need my blood, but I give it anyways. Keeps him quiet, reminds him he's mine."

Mine. The word thrummed and danced in the air. In the truest sense, this Xander did belong to Spike. He was entirely Spike's creation, the demon inside him springing from the blood that even now shone like rubies on Spike's pale skin.

"Wait a minute," Xander shook his head. "Where's Buffy?"

Spike shot him a quizzical look, and answered, "The Slayer? Far as I know, she's set up shop in Cleveland. Why?"

Xander slapped his forehead into his palm. This wasn't his fuck-up. Well, maybe not. Probably not, because he hadn't cheated on Cordelia so there should have been no reason for her to use the dreaded W word.

Xander stood, reluctantly leaving Spike's arms. This need to be close to Spike was only slightly more disturbing than having to call up his ex-vengeance demon girlfriend to fix this. Well, she probably wasn't ex-vengeance here. Oh, bad, bad, bad. He was gonna have to de-demon Anya and she was gonna be righteously pissed.

"Anyanka, get your ass down here now!" Xander wasn't sure that yelling would bring a vengeance demon a-running, but it was the best idea he had at the moment.

He waited, hoping to hear the little pop that accompanied her teleport-y act. And he waited some more. Finally, he shook his head. Clearly, yelling was not the correct method of summoning a vengeance demon.

Then he heard it. The soft swooshing sounds that was as familiar to him as his vanished heartbeat. Someone was staking vamps close by and at a pretty quick clip.

Spike had given up all pretense at humanity, his demon face to the fore. A series of low snarls and hisses escaped his mouth, and he stood. Xander could only stare as the Big Bad he remembered began to suit up.

The duster had just finished swirling around Spike's calves when the door flew in, splintering under the force of the blow. As the dust and debris settled, Xander looked straight at the possessor of said force. The face that stared back at him was alien, for all that it belonged to Buffy.

She looked thinner, harder, and darker than he'd ever seen her. Her face carried a silvery scar that split her lip. His Buffy, his shining golden girl, was drab.

She stood there for a minute as he stared at her. Her stake was raised high, but she simply stood there. Xander wondered what she was waiting for, and he said the only thing he could think of.

"Buffy, what the hell happened to you?"

She laughed at that, and her laughed belonged to her and not to the scarred woman standing in front of him. It was the laugh of a million nights at the Bronze, and post-Slaying movie fests. It was a little piece of his world and he let it shower down on him, grateful to have it.

"Xander," she smiled. "You're you and not all…"

He nodded and said, "Long story, Buffster, but yeah. I'm not the Xander that belongs here."

She bit her lip, and then grimaced. With a soft sigh, she lowered her stake. Spike started to laugh, first lightly but it progressed until the sound filled the little room.

"Cocked up, did you Slayer? I'm betting you made a wish," Spike said, between desperate chuckles.

"How did you know?" Buffy demanded. "Xander, how did he know?"

Spike answered her question before Xander could form the words. "Boy here called for Anyanka. The lady's a vengeance demon, specializing in scorned women if I recall rightly. Stands to reason that you know him and he knows you, though I'd know if you two'd ever met. So, what did you wish for, Slayer?"

Buffy met Xander's eyes guiltily. "I wished I'd never come to Sunnydale."

Xander groaned. Apparently, some things were just meant to be and this had to be one of them. No freak Hellmouth coincidence was enough to explain the similarity in the wishing.

"Xander, I…" Buffy stopped and took a deep breath. "Angel was leaving. We…it hurt so bad, to be around each other. We were supposed to stop the Mayor and then he was going to leave. I just…I was thinking it would be better if we'd never met at all and this girl was there and I was crying and she asked me…"

"What you wish would have happened," Xander finished for her, intimately acquainted with Anya's former life. "So you said it and she did it. I understand, believe me."

"Do you…" Buffy stared at him forlornly. "Do you know how to fix it?"

"Only way to take back the wish is to get rid of the demon's power," Spike told her, his voice a bit too chipper. "Good luck on that. Vengeance demons' got a bit of the mojo and some strength besides."

"I'm not sure how to find her," Xander confessed. "I tried yelling, but clearly that was both ineffective and slightly boneheaded."

"Well, yeah," Spike scoffed. "Gotta use a summoning charm to get your girl to show up where you want her."

"Ooh, really?" Buffy was bouncing on the balls of her feet. "So we just find the charm and she'll show? Thanks!"

"Bugger," Spike cursed. "Tell me I did not just give good advice to the Slayer."

Xander moved closer to Spike and gave in to the need, Stroking Spike's face, he put his face in the crook of Spike's neck and just inhaled. As he nuzzled, he told the blonde demon, "Don't worry. If this works, you'll never remember it."

"Oh, that's all right then," Spike told him softly, slightly mollified. "Gonna miss my boy, though."

"Nah," Xander reassured him. "You won't remember him, either."

Spike only stared at him, eyes widening. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. The whirlwind began to tug at Xander and as he was pulled from yet another body, he heard Spike's voice.

"No, Xander…I remember you. Sorry, luv, so sorry…"


	8. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Xander/Anya

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Written for the Just Rewards/[](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/profile)[**fangfetish**](http://community.livejournal.com/fangfetish/)/[](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) Alternate Realities/Dimensions challenge. X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories....

A/N II: Some bits of dialogue taken from the S4 BtVS episode "Harsh Light of Day"

  


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**A Road Covered With Blood**   
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Xander stood there, lost in the sound of his heartbeat. It kept thumping in his ears, the solid thub-dub seductive and sensual. He wondered, as he got his bearings in yet another Xander-body, if this was what drew the vamps in; the sweetly musical swell and rush of a pulse just driving them insane.

Bonus points for no dick in his mouth, he thought wryly. Not that it had been bad, exactly. He licked his lips, imagining he could still taste the smoky smooth flavor of Spike's skin there.

But, if you were going to suck cock, it was nice if it could be your own choice. Well, more your own choice since it had been the other Xander's choice and he'd kept it up. And sure, he'd enjoyed it but no need ruin a fine point with something ridiculous, like logic.

He held something in his hand and he looked down, curious. It was a yellow hard-hat. His hard-hat, the one with his name on it that had crumbled and collapsed along with everything else in Sunnydale. He felt his eyes water, and he blinked.

Stupid, he berated himself, to get so emotional over a piece of hardened plastic. It was just a thing, a meaningless trinket from another life, another him. Maybe that was why it meant so much. Hard hats and the work that went with them were like a half-forgotten dream. So much of his life in Sunnydale had been about dreams, achieving them or releasing them.

"Xander?" And there was another lost little bit of Sunnydale, abandoned in the rubble of a ruined town and a ruined life.

"Anya," he sighed, turning and pulling her into his arms. "God, I missed you!"

"Xander," she wriggled in his arms and he'd forgotten how small she was. Anya, with her big mouth and big attitude had always seemed seven feet tall. But here, in his arms and not in Hell, he could feel the fragility that she masked with words.

"Ahn, just…it's so good to see you again," he told her, pressing a kiss to her hair.

"Good. Then we're officially dating," she replied happily. "I was worried this would be complicated. Magazines make it sound difficult to find and keep a man."

"Officially d…" he trailed off and pulled back. "I think I need a little explanation, please."

She looked at him and he'd forgotten that, too. It hurt, to realize how much of her had faded from his mind. He'd clung so tightly to her while they were together and then she was gone. Gone from his life and the pieces of her that were left hadn't even stayed in brain long.

"We went to prom," she said in a way that meant she was spelling out the self-evident. "But, the world almost ended and you couldn't take me on any more dates. Now, we can be together."

"Together," he repeated. "Together, as in…"

"I have dreams about you, Xander. Sometimes, you're naked," she told him shyly.

This wasn't what he remembered. Well, he remembered the Anya coming back and dropping into his life like a bomb. But, there hadn't been any hard hats in his life then. He'd been living in the basement, figuring out that life sucked and wondering if there was more to life than just what he'd seen.

This wasn't the basement. This was his apartment. His and Anya's apartment that clearly was just his now and had never been hers. He wasn't sure if that made him sad. No Anya, because you let her die and she's in Hell and she's standing in front of you and look, there goes her dress again.

"I like you. You're funny and you're nicely shaped," she smiled again, happy and sure. "If we're dating, we should have sexual intercourse."

No matter how many times this happened to him, and oh wouldn't it be nice if that were an exaggeration, he'd never get used to it. He'd fucked a lot of people since Sunnydale, male and female. Christ, he'd just gotten done sucking Spike off! And it didn't matter because no one and nothing had ever touched him the way this woman did, with her simple request that they interlock parts.

"Ahn," he said slowly, walking over to her, "I like you, too. A lot. And it would be the biggest lie if I said I didn't want you. I do. But, this isn't what I want from you."

"It isn't?" Her brow furrowed, and she tilted her head. "Am I not doing this right? Everything I've read said that men and women who feel desire for each other should copulate."

"Ye-ah," the word came out in a rush of air as he pulled her to him. "See, here's the thing, Ahn…it should be more than that. More than nice shapes and interlocking parts."

She stared at him, still faintly puzzled. He didn't move, didn't try to dress her or push her away. They stayed standing together, his arms around her waist, her head almost on his chest. She'd liked that, he remembered. She said his heartbeat was pleasant.

"You have kind eyes," she finally told him. "You see me and it's…"

He watched her struggle for words. He hadn't known the first time how hard this was for her, hadn't sympathized. So caught up in himself that he'd missed the pain and the uncertainty of this newly human girl.  
Fuck, he was an idiot! Maybe this was what he was supposed to see. Not Anya per se, but this idea that it wasn't enough to save the world. Apocalypses were good for glory, but real heroes were the ones who actually rescued people. Damn it, now he owed Angel an apology for all the times he'd made fun of that "help the helpless" crap.

"Ahn," he finally said, looking down at her. "I will always look at you with kind eyes. I will never not see you. If this happens, if we get together, it shouldn't be like this."

"Xander?"

"Yeah, Ahn?"

"I'm scared," and that confession, in her small voice, made him almost choke.

"Me too," he said and he kissed her, his lips grazing hers.  



	9. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: You know why I'm writing this? Good, 'cuz I'm feeling lazy and don't want to type all that stuff out again. X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories.

Feedback: I'm easy like Sunday morning. But, leave me feedback and I'll do my sexy dance for you! :P

  


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**A Road Covered With Blood**   
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He keeps waiting to feel the yankpulltug that'll send him hurtling away from this time and place. It never comes. Sometimes he wonders if he'll just stay here, in this body, and maybe that's how this is supposed to end.

Wouldn't that be the fucking kicker if being nice to Angel and not sleeping with Anya was all it took to set the world spinning right on its axis? Sitting in Oz's van, half-listening to Radiohead and Green Day and a few other bands he couldn't place, and the bullshit angst was getting to him.

This was weird. He and Oz, driving to L.A., and he's got all these memories that aren't his. His memories don't include a big heart to heart with Angel right before the snake-fest of graduation. But, now they do and he starts to believe that reality is slowly changing because as he remembers it (or doesn't remember it, because it's all kinda fuzzy), he mocked the hell out of Angel at graduation.

But now instead of seeing a tall, dark and pretentious bastard looming over his friend, he sees a grieving man. Someone who's making a bad decision for the best of reasons and destroying a part of his soul in the process. He talks to the grieving man, softly and kindly. Tells him that he always has a place with them, not for Buffy's sake but for his own.

I got mature, Xander realizes with a jolt. I got mature because of me. He's in those memories, the him that he is now, and the Xander of then remembers him, which probably shouldn't work. After all, if he's changing reality, how can the different realities remember other realities that no longer exist? Hellmouth logic at its finest, that. This never happened, but I remember it so it did. He wonders if this is how Dawn felt when she realized nothing about her was real but she remembered it so it was?

He follows behind Oz, and there she is, dark hair shining and face alight with her genuine smile that she reserves for special occasions. His Cordy, but not his anymore and maybe she never was but she's the Cordy he remembers, so he decides arbitrarily on that fact that she is his.

"Xander," she says and he's close to her, breathing in her subtle perfume that has never changed. She told him years ago that every woman needed a signature scent. Hers is something like daisies and cinnamon and nectarines, but it has a fancy name he never learned to pronounce.

He leans into the hug, just lets the Cordy-ness of her wash over him. Another thing he'd forgotten, or maybe just refused to notice. How much he missed her when she'd left, but they didn't break up and she didn't have a horrible scar on her belly this time. She'd thanked him for being true to her and asked him if he loved her. He'd told her yes, because she was Cordy and he couldn't help but love her. She smiled; her genuine smile which didn't cut you up like her other smiles, and proceeded to dump him flat on his ass.

For his own good, because she did love him. Just not the way she loved say, this Doyle guy, who's giving off intense Cordy crush vibes and who she's mocking twice as hard as she ever did him. Clearly, they're destined for each other.

She whispers in his ear, "I've been waiting for you. It's working, Xander."

Then she steps back and it's like she never said anything out of the ordinary. Oz is doing most of the talking, yet another scary out of place thing because Oz doesn't talk much. Oz, who'd died a year ago or so he'd heard. Willow hadn't been too clear on the details, probably because Kennedy was involved. Something about a rash of werewolf attacks, and Xander knew how to read between those lines. Oz smelled Willow on someone and lost his shit. Kennedy, who'd never really learned the whole Slayer Zen thing that Buffy and Faith had perfected, managed to take him down like an animal.

Surrounded by Cordy's scent and thoughts of Oz bleeding himself dry in some South American town for love of Willow and it's almost too much. He'd been too many places in his real life, seen too many things that had bled him dry and now, he's too many Xanders.

Suddenly, he's somewhere else in a normal way and Angel's standing there. Xander looks up into his eyes, and he gets it. This is exactly how Angel must feel, memories upon memories of things both ugly and profound. How the hell does the guy stand it? Distantly, he remembers Angel had a hundred years to be insane. Maybe that's all he needs, than. A good breakdown, and Angel is hugging him and everyone else is gone.

"Let it out," Angel says and Xander can't. He sits there, pathetically grateful that someone on this planet is still larger than him and can hold him like a child. But, he can't tell Angel because first, Angel would think he was insane. And second, if he lets it out, he's not sure he can ever put it all back.

"Let it out," Angel says again. So, Xander does and it's a jumble of apocalypses and they really need to get a plural for that because he's been through so many both personal and global and missing eyes and missing chances and how the hell does Buffy handle the weight of the world? His shoulders are broader and he's about to collapse and he doesn't have any witty quips or kicky shoes so he's pretty sure that those are both crucial and Angel just listens.

"I can feel it," Angel tells him, and Xander just looks at him.

"Feel it?" He's confused now. Feel what? His painful embarrassment at breaking down or the need for kicky shoes?

"Things are different. I'm different," Angel replies, sounding lost and far away. "There are…echoes. Of me. Another me. Doing things I want to believe are lies because if…if they're true, than I'm…"

"What," Xander challenges him. "Flawed? Damn near human?"

"Somethin' like that," and there's Spike. Standing there, half in the shadows and looking just as confused as the rest of them.

"Spike," Angel growls and he stands up, placing his body between Spike and Xander.

"Relax, you nit," Spike scoffs. "Not here to pummel you bloody or stick you with hot pokers. Actually, that was the plan but…"

"But what," Angel snarls, but there's no heat. This is an old grudge, thick with scar tissue. Xander knows from scars.

"Can feel it, Angel," Spike mumbles. "Bloody ridiculous, but I can!"

"What? The beat down I'm about to give you," and Xander laughs at that. Some things just never change and Angel's goofy good-guy dialogue is one of them. Old spaghetti westerns and gangsters movies are not the best source material.

Spike just stands there, his hand half outstretched, half clenched into a fist and Xander knows. If Cordy's here and Angel, then Spike is too. Simple math, and Xander was always good at math.

"His soul," Xander says slowly. "Except, I think…the memory of his soul."

"What the –bloody-hell," they say in near unison, exceptions made for British slang thrown in because it's Spike and there's always a bloody something when Spike's around.

"Spike, well my Spike, not mine per se but the Spike that existed in the same reality I did, he went and got his soul," Xander tries to explain. "He went to Africa, something that involved demons and bugs and possibly a wish but I never got the whole story. Anyways, he got his soul back. You know, on purpose."

There are two sets of raised eyebrows. It's one of those movie moments where crickets are chirping and nobody moves, nobody even breathes because even breathing might force you to acknowledge what's just been said.  So, they all stand there. Just staring.

"Spike got a soul?" which overlaps with "Take that back, you tosser..! I did no such thing." He'd answer but those damn crickets are back and instead of staring at him, they're staring at each other.

"I could see it," Angel finally says.

"Really?" and there's a hopeful look on Spike's face, something Xander's only ever seen directed at Buffy. It's Spike's 'notice me see me make me worth something' look and Xander realizes that's the look he remembers most about Spike and not what Dawn called his "grr" face.

"Yeah," Angel says after another long, deliberative silence. "You always were the master of the cocked-up plan."

That's normal enough and Xander relaxes. Now, there'll be more harsh words and then possibly some punches until the next temporary truce. Except not, because Spike just laughs.

 "Did some right stupid things once upon a time," Spike says, and its damn near nostalgic.

"Some," Angel smirks. "That barely does you justice, boy."

"Oi! Throwing stones from a pretty breakable house there. I can think of a fair few times you screwed the pooch, wanker," Spike replies companionably.

There's that yankpulltug he was waiting for, and he slips away from the two vampires quietly. No idea where or when he's going to next and it almost doesn't matter. The people he's fighting for, or at least hopping for, are coming back to him. Bits and pieces and every time he slides another puzzle piece into place, they come back a little more. It's like math, he thinks again. I'm good at math.


	10. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Spike/Xander

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: You know it, I know it, I'm too lazy to type it. Just assume I said it. X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories

  


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**A Road Covered With Blood**   
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The really remarkable thing, Xander thought tiredly, was that waking up unable to talk was no less terrifying the second time around.

Actually, the really remarkable thing was that Spike was tied up in his apartment. Ropes Xander knew Spike could break with a thought wound their way around the blonde. Keen intellect that he was, Xander deduced that Spike had once again seen the softer side of the Initiative.

What he couldn't figure out was why his alterna-self had tied him up. The logic, in hindsight, looked startlingly like stupidity. Spike shows up, pale and unable to do more than snipe at them. Giles chains him to a bathtub, presumably to control Spike's inner homicidal maniac. Since nothing says "I love you" like the gift of a demon that wants you dead, Giles hands Spike over to him with instructions to tie him up.

In Giles' haste to get a piece of Blighty tail, he never gave Xander anything resembling an effective method of Spike control. Sure, there's the chip. But, if Spike's chipped, why bother with the bondage impression? Xander knows he could chase this around in his head for hours, but he's been inside his own head-many of his own heads, actually-for far too long.

He shambles over to Spike, desperately trying to figure out how to communicate I'm sorry without resorting to Pictionary. He kneels down in front of the chair, carefully unpicking the worthless and laughably frail knot that pretends to keep Spike from doing what he pleases, when he pleases.

It's the prickles on his neck that forces his gaze upward. Spike's eyes are fastened on him, asking so many questions that Xander realizes Spike doesn't need his voice. His eyes do all his talking for him. He knew that before now, but it never made much of an impression. It was one of those laws: The Hellmouth is bad, Willow is smart, Buffy is strong, and Spike has expressive eyes. Some things you just know and you never question how you know them.

But, Spike's eyes are firing a million questions at him and he can't communicate with just his eyes. That's a Spike thing, not a Xander thing. Xander things are different. They involve trust, and loyalty, and doing the dumbest things because someone has to do them. Huh, it's funny because those sound like Spike things too. Maybe he could try the eyes, because he doesn't want to move away to find paper and pen.

Just know what I'm trying to say here, Spike, he pleads. I'm sorry for this, I don't know why I…no, that's a lie. I do know why. But, I'm still sorry.

Spike tilts his head as if he's thinking about that, so maybe this visual communication thing is working. Spike's eyes are distant, clouded with so many different things. Xander knows there's hate, because even in this newer reality, none of the Scoobies have been extraordinarily kind.

It's easier to find the memories this time. They aren't so distant and Xander feels exultant because that must mean this crazy reality ride is working. Cordy told him that he and his other selves would merge, and it seems that way because the last few weeks are perfectly clear in his mind.

Buffy is somehow softer in his memories, more willing to listen to Spike and less apt to swing a fist his way. She's not so keen on the Initiative, even without knowing that Riley's involved. She suspects, how can she not after the wild night of fun at their dorm. But, the now Buffy won't indict without proof just like she won't whale on Spike without him hitting first.

Still, Willow's spell had done a number on all of them. Spike most of all now that he thinks about it. He'd gotten the marry Buffy hit on top of the Xander demon magnet smack.  Xander stares at Spike, trying not to think about the suggestion the vampire had made.

It had been wrong. He'd been compelled by the force of Willow's experiment. He had…sounded so damn erotic. Xander shivered slightly, the silence around him giving his mind a chance to mull over exactly how damn hot Spike's voice was, lips brushing his ear as he suggested a few games for his 'bachelor party'.

A finger drew his attention out of his memories and back to Spike. Spike shrugs off the now slack ropes and gestures downward. Xander knows what Spike means and it isn't "how about you reprise that blowjob from the creepy alternate universe?"  Still, that's what Xander's thinking about and it must show on his face because Spike's eyebrow is almost touching his hair.

Xander waves a hand, trying to dismiss Spike's curiosity. Obviously when he lost his mind, he lost his voice. He knows Spike never just lets anything drop. Why should he? He's got eternity in which to worm the information out of you.

Xander smiles, and gives up on his amateur attempts at using just his eyes to communicate. He shrugs and mouths, 'I'm sorry.'

Spike smiles back and it's a nice smile. He'd smiled at Buffy like that, simultaneously bashful and inviting. It's a heady combination, especially for a worn-out traveler. Xander knows this is about making things right, and nothing he's thinking about is right. Spike's prickly, and after a century of mayhem, it has to gall his pride to be tied up by a human he couldn't even be bothered to bite before.

Still, Xander inches up Spike's body. He stares at Spike, waiting to see something that tells him to stop. There's no panic in those eyes, no anger or disdain. All Xander can see is amusement and challenge.

Probably, Xander figures, he thinks I'm going to freak out. Hell, I outed myself months ago to the girls, but Spike doesn't exactly keep up. And the little bits of the other Spike that are bleeding through sure as hell don't know.

He's not exactly himself anymore, either. These hops through different Xanders have changed him as well, and now he can't be sure whose memories he carries. All those colliding realities don't matter for shit when his lips graze Spike's.

He stays there, just enjoying the feel of those soft lips. He smells the same, and Xander flicks out his tongue. A scientific experiment to see if he tastes the same and he does. A puff of air wafts over Xander's lips and he knows Spike has sighed.

Xander pulls back reluctantly. If Spike is sighing, it could be a bad thing. Maybe he's irritated, or bored. But, Spike's face doesn't look irritated or bored. It looks…almost peaceful.

Spike opens his eyes and Xander refuses to flinch. He's a grown man and it was just a kiss. Spike stares at him shrewdly, as if trying to find something. Xander puts his thoughts on his face, and it does the trick.

Spike mouths, "Thank you."

Xander nods gravely and stands up. Reaching for a pen and paper, he scribbles frantically. Turning the page to Spike, he waits for Spike to read it.

Spike finally nods and stands up. Xander motions Spike forward and they head to the kitchen. Spike reaches into the fridge as Xander gets the coffee pot perking.

The incredibly stillness is shattered by the phone. Xander stares at it, confused. Who the hell could be calling him? Nobody he knows can speak…

With a rueful glance at Spike, he picks up. He tries to say Hello, before he remembers he can't and even though Spike can't speak, Xander can still hear the laughter.

"Xander, it's me. Cordy. I know you're all voiceless right now, so just listen, okay?"

He nods, which is even more ludicrous than trying to talk. Sill, responding to people is habit. He flips Spike the international sign for "I love you and think you're nifty keen" which sends Spike into more silent convulsions of laughter.

"I need you to come to L.A. for me," she continues, not bothering to wait for him to answer her. "We…oh god, Xander, Doyle's dead. I knew, and I had to watch it again. But, I didn't think it would be so hard this time around."

Xander taps on the phone receiver, to let her know he's there. He wishes he knew Morse Code or that she did, because there's no way for him to tell her how sorry he is and how much he cares about her.

"I got the visions again, but I can't wait for them to fry my brain. I waited, in the other reality, and that led to so much ugliness," she tells him. "For the record, if a demon name Skip ever offers you higher being status, turn him down. So, I'm going to go straight to the Oracles this time. No mystical pregnancies for me."

Xander taps again, uncertain what she wants him to do. He'll do whatever it is, but the Cordelia Chase extended version isn't making things clear.

"After you get your voice back," and here the smile in Cordy's voice in unmistakable, "I need you to bring Spike here. There are a few things we need to talk about and I need his help. He's still a Champion, whether he knows it or not."

The crash is so loud that Xander literally jumps. He whirls around to see Spike, fangs bloodied from his breakfast and gaping. Xander taps the receiver again and hangs up.

'What the fuck,' he pantomimes, pointing to the broken mug and the slowly expanding pool of blood on the tile.

Spike grabs the paper and pen. He writes frantically and tosses the paper to Xander.

"I'm a CHAMPION?"

Xander nods and writes back, "It's what happens when you die to save the world."

Spike scowls ferociously, but nods. He gestures for the paper and Xander returns it. The next message takes considerably longer to write, but the coffee's done so it's all good now. As soon as they aren't vocally challenged, he'll have to take some time off and he wonders which lame excuse he'll have to trot out this time. Somehow, he's pretty sure the old "My best friend's become a Seer for the Powers" excuse just won't work, even on the Hellmouth.

Spike thrusts the paper under Xander's nose. Xander wishes he could laugh, or maybe cry. This mixed Spike is so weird, not completely the old Spike or this new one that's evolving. Still, it's interesting.

" I remember burning up, feeling my soul. Not anxious for a second go at that. Think I can bypass the dying part this time around?"

Xander thinks about it. He honestly doesn't know. It seems like that's what Champions do. They die. Angel, Buffy, Spike…all dead. Maybe they won't have to die now.

"I don't know," he writes as Spike looms over his shoulder. "We need to help Buffy fix this so we can go to L.A."

Spike nods, writes "Shower first" and stomps off. Xander figures he's entitled to a stomp.  Nothing more fucked up then memories of dying, unless its memories of dying twice.

Huh, he thinks. That explains a lot about all of them. Memories of dying must make for sucky party stories.


	11. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Yadda, yadda, yackety-schmackety, etc, etc...Oh and a special thanks to [](http://clawofcat.livejournal.com/profile)[**clawofcat**](http://clawofcat.livejournal.com/) for her incredible and inadvertent contribution to this story. The surprise in this chapter? Yeah, I got from her...sort of.

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

"Do you know what he said to me?"

"No Buffy," Xander yawned. "I have no idea what he said to you. Is there anything that even remotely resembles a caffeinated beverage around here? I gotta hit the road soon and I am not exactly the poster boy for wakefulness."

Giles snorted and handed him a mug. Yuck, cold tea. What was wrong with coffee? Spike practically went into raptures when he found out Giles was brewing something brown and leafy named Assam. Seriously, when your toasty drink of choice sounds like a Bollywood character? It is time to pack it in. Still, the old thing about beggars applied so Xander began to chug.

"Really Xander," Giles sighed. "That tea costs four dollars an ounce. Must you treat it like…"

For once, comparisons seemed to fail Giles and he lapsed into a disgruntled silence. Spike, happily sipping his own steaming cup, merely snorted and shook his head.

"Can't expect these bloody Yanks to have any appreciation for a decent cuppa," he commiserated with Giles. "It's all that sugar water they drink."

"He said," Buffy growled, "WHAT are you? What, not who."

"So, he was interested in your Slayerness," Willow tossed in, always the optimist. "That's always good, right? I mean, sharing common interests and childhood stories always a good relationship thing."

"Somehow," Buffy replied dryly, " I don't think it was so much a 'sharing' moment as a 'let's put the weird girl under a microscope and see what's ticking' moment."

Xander nodded. He really was tired. First, the Gentlemen and their very ungentlemanly behavior regarding other people's vital organs followed closely by another group of demons with an unhealthy fascination in ending the world. He'd forgotten how exhausting saving the world could be. Plus, his skin was buzzing.

It was sort of a low-grade hum, like he was sitting near an electrical wire. He shook his head, trying to stave off sleep and ignored the crawling sensation. Just his luck, he'd caught some kind of funky disease from those demons. That or constant exposure to the Hellmouth had some side effects they didn't know about.

"Look," Xander mumbled, "he's a creep. Grade A, 100%, officially certified creep. Fighting evil is one thing, experimenting on it is another. I mean, I'm all for taking down the bad, but what they did to Spike? That's just wrong."

His vision dimmed, and he gasped for air. Everything swam fuzzily in front of him, people turning into bizarre Dali-inspired shapes. He tried desperately to fight the feeling of drowning, but his lungs were frozen and he couldn't move.

Suddenly, everything snapped into focus. Buffy was crouched next to him, face filled with concern. He smiled weakly, waving a hand to ward her off.

"I'm fine," he told her. "I guess I'm just more tired than I thought."

She stepped back slightly, and smiled. "You work too hard, Xander. Maybe you should stay home tonight. I know Cordy needs you, but wrecking on the way to help a friend? Incredibly unhelpful."

He nodded and said, "You're right, Buffster. I just…she sounded kinda upset. I think I'll just do the power nap thing before I take off."

"Well, if you want," Oz said, "I'm headed that way tonight. Gig in San Diego. I could drop you off."

"Thanks, Oz," Xander smiled. "That would be great."

Even as he said the words, Xander felt slightly uneasy. He didn't remember Oz being there a few minutes ago. In fact, he was pretty certain Oz had left Sunnydale in search of something for his wolf-self.

"So," Xander threw out into the growing silence, "Riley's officially off the date list?"

Buffy sighed, and nodded. Willow grimaced at him, and shook her head. He shrugged, uncertain what was going on.

"Hey, Xander," Willow motioned him towards her. "How about you and I do some kitchen reconnaissance. Maybe we could find something that resembles drinkable out there!"

Xander rose from the couch as Giles told them, "Not the whiskey. I'm saving that for a special occasion."

"Like what," Xander retorted. "The next Apocalypse?"

Giles nodded distractedly and said, "Yes, actually. I have it on good authority that in six months, we'll need two drams of Glenfiddich 1890 for the necessary repelling potion."

Xander laughed. Only on the Hellmouth could booze be a crucial ingredient in saving the world. Of course, only on the Hellmouth could saving the world be an issue.

"Xander," Willow hissed. "What the hell are you thinking?"  
"I'm tired, kinda hungry, and where's Spike because if we're leaving he should be getting ready to go," Xander replied promptly. "Why?"

"Have an apple," Willow said contritely, handing him the fruit. "I mean about Riley?"

"Sorry," Xander mumbled around a bite of apple. "I know she's pissed, but she was just talking about it."

"What? No," Willow shook her head. "She's more than pissed, Xan. She's freaking out. Mentioning it not of the good."

"Why freaking out? I know the guy's a jackass, but it's not worth Buffy losing it."

"Did you get hit on the head?" Willow sighed. "I know my experiment gone wrong was traumatic, but making you a demon magnet can't have affected your brain. Was there an accident at work?"

"Huh? No, and experiment?" Xander struggled to keep up. He knew he'd shifted to another reality, one with Oz in it apparently, but this was starting to worry him. He could feel himself changing. One minute he was himself and the next, this new Xander. Obviously, there was a memory lag because he had no idea what was going on.

"When Giles had me do 'my will'." Willow made air quotes. "Granted, it went kinda bad there, but it gave us so much information about The Initiative. Are you sure you didn't get hit on the head?"

"Positive," Xander assured her. "I'm just really tired. Brain lag and all that."

Willow smiled and rubbed his arm. Good, an excuse that actually worked and was true. He loved it when a plan came together.

"So, we know all about The Initiative," Xander prompted.

"Yeah, and that knowing including finding out their plans for Buffy," Willow continued. "As in their 'let's take her apart and see how this Slayer thing works' plan."

"Oh," Xander blinked. "OH. Not good."

"He catches up," Willow groused.

"Sorry," Xander shrugged. "Tired. Hard to keep up with all you crazy college kids, you know?"

"Yeah, well us crazy college kids need your help in figuring out how to bust in to The Initiative. Also, bringing back some Angel-type help? Would not go amiss," Willow pointed out.  
"Sure," Xander yawned. "Just hand me Spike and Oz and I'll be on my way."

 "Spike's off rounding up the rest of the team," Willow said, leading him out of the kitchen.

She gave him a mock-shove onto Giles' couch and he sank gratefully into it. He wasn't sure how he ended up so tired. Maybe none of the Xander's was getting any sleep. Of course, it could be that he hadn't really gotten to sleep himself since he started this whole whiz-bang ride. Note to self, stop fixing things long enough to nap, he thought.

"The rest of the team," he repeated. "Who's that?"

"Anya and her girlfriend," Giles told him, face still buried in a dusty-looking book. "They're both extremely powerful magic users, and I think that between Willow, myself and the girls, we should be able to counter anything the Initiative cares to throw at us."

"I'm sorry. " Xander sat bolt upright, suddenly incredibly wide-awake. "Anya and her who?"

"Her girlfriend," Buffy told him. "Uhm, I think the girl's name is Tara. She's pretty soft-spoken, but nice. I met her once on campus."

"Anya and…Tara?" Xander couldn't keep the shock off his face or out of his voice. "Well, that's new and exciting."


	12. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Xander/?

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Things are getting really alternate now. In fact, there's very little left that is recognizably BtVS S4 or AtS S1. This chapter is a little short, but necessary to set up the coming chapters. I'll apologize in advance for any confusion these switching realities cause...

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**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

Tara and Anya were walking in just as he was walking out. Xander stared at them, trying to wrap his head around this incredibly bizarre new reality. A reality where Oz stays and Anya is a lesbian.

"Xander," Anya said happily, throwing her arms around his neck.

He returned the embrace, holding her tight. She looked vibrant, happier than he'd ever seen her. He didn't know if Tara had put that bright shiny look on her face, but it was something he'd rarely ever seen when she was with him. If this was what all his exhaustion and confusion was doing to his friends, bring on the crazy.

"So," he whispered, "you and Tara?"

She nodded, her face buried in his chest. Tara stood off to the side, her shy gentle smile almost masked by her curtain of blonde hair. Tara was another one he'd missed almost beyond reason. She may have started out as Willow's girlfriend, but she'd become a real friend to all of them.

"Well," he finally said, breaking away from Anya, "if you ladies are ready to return my vampire, I need to get going. Damsels in distress, old friends to torment, you know how it goes."

Anya looked up at him, as always too perceptive for his own good. She, of all his friends, could be counted on to call him on his crap. He liked that about her. It made him feel safe, knowing that at least one person wouldn't accept the outside Xander as truth.

"Your vampire," she repeated. "He's outside, smoking. Bouncing too, so either he's had sugary blood or he's anxious. Have fun being trapped in small enclosed space with him."

Xander stood there, a riot of images running through his mind at that offhanded comment. Spike. Bouncing. Small enclosed space. The possibilities were endless.

"X-xander." Tara stepped forward, holding out her hand. "I m-made something for you to take to Cordelia. Just a little g-gift for The Oracles."

He smiled down at her, taking the small disc she held in her hand. It was a metallic sun, a little worn but buffed to a high shine. Its face was etched with some type of runes, and he turned it in his hand, trying to figure out what they meant.

"Just a p-prayer, " Tara told him, coming up to stand in the circle of Anya's arms. "They like sh-shiny things and the prayer is one of supplication. It sh-should please them."

He nodded, grateful somebody knew what the hell they were doing. He was ashamed to admit he hadn't thought past the whole "Cordy needs me" portion of the trip. She had to be frantic, losing Doyle and gaining her visions.

"Thanks, Tara," he said sincerely. "I'm sure this'll help a lot. So, you guys going to stay here and help plot the downfall of The Initiative."

"Yes," Anya answered firmly, her face etched with anger. "I might be human now, but who knows what they consider 'hostile'? I mean, if they want to experiment on The Slayer, I don't think a human ex-demon would be off their list."

"Agreed," Buffy said quietly, standing up and walking over to them. "These guys are definitely bad news. Besides, until we get rid of them, none of us are safe. Willow and Tara are witches, Giles can summon demons…"

"Used to summon demons," Giles interjected. "I assure you, I haven't done anything like that in years. "

"Yeah, well, the facts don't seem to matter," Buffy snapped back. "Sorry, Giles, I'm just…I mean, I'm supposed to fight evil. You'd think that would give me a free pass out of the labs."

"No," Xander said quietly. "When this kind of thing gets started, nobody's safe. No matter whose side you're on, you're just fodder for the mill."

"Xander's right," Willow told Buffy gently. "I mean, they're experimenting on their own soldiers. There's nothing and no one they won't hurt if they get a chance."

"Too true," came a voice from the doorway. "If it hadn't been for the Slayer, I'dve been one of their special guests m'self."

Xander nodded, and continued, "Don't worry, Buff. Spike and I will make the L.A. run and be back before you know it. Hopefully with reinforcements of the Angel variety."

Buffy smiled slightly. He knew how hard it was, being separated from Angel. After her last L.A. trip, she'd been so happy. They'd talked, they'd ranted, they'd kissed. Heck, she was so detailed, he could almost picture it. But, they were together. In the not together, long-distance, let's see if we can make this work way.

"Yeah," she agreed. "Go, save, come back. Spike, I'm counting on you to…"

"I know, Slayer," he said gently. "Keep your boy safe, save the day and drag Peaches back by his over-coiffed hair. Been through this already, haven't we?"

"Yeah," Buffy said again. "Just…be careful."

"Will do, Buffster," Xander promised. "Oz, you ready?"

Oz nodded and they left. Well, Xander amended as he laid down in the back of the van, they left after the obligatory three false starts and two rounds of hugs, kisses and promises to stay safe. God, he was tired.

It was only when he was almost asleep that he realized something was wrong. Something…someone had said something wrong. Something…off. He tried desperately to grasp at it, but it slid through his weary brain like mercury. Oh well, he'd figure it out. Eventually. After a nice loooong nap…

 


	13. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Quotes in this chapter from _Alice in Wonderland_ by Lewis Carroll, _Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening _by Robert Frost, and _I like my body when it is with your body _by ee cummings.

A/N II: X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories  


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**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

Xander stirred in the dark, awake but unwilling to move. For starters, he was actually comfortable and that hadn't happened since he'd started this fun a minute thrill ride. Also, he had no idea where he was and that was always a good reason to stay still. No sense in just jumping into death when you can creep in an inch at a time.

An analogy that might not have sounded half so perverted if he wasn't currently pressed smack up against a very firm, cool body. From the scent, and complete lack of noise, it was Spike. That in itself wasn't scary. Hell, after you've had a guy's dick in your mouth, nothing about him is ever remotely frightening. Well, maybe a few things, Xander thought grudgingly.

He remembered passing out cold in the van. He did not remember moving after that. Considering he was on a journey through time, space, and dimensions heretofore unseen, he was betting he'd shifted again. Not something most people would sleep through, but he'd been damn tired.

Might as well get up and face the new, possibly bizarre reality, Xander thought. Even in his head that sounded suspiciously like pouting. He didn't want to get up. He wanted to lay here, cuddled with Spike and just let everything go to Hell.

He sighed in resignation. Spike and Hell, two very good reasons to shift his lazy ass and get on with this stupid quest. Angelus had called him a white knight, and while Xander had never claimed the title, it was starting to feel more and more appropriate.

"You okay?" Spike's voice, harsh with sleep, exploded in the silent darkness.

"Yeah," Xander whispered back. "Just...thinking."

Spike shifted slightly at that, and Xander reflexively tightened his arms. He didn't want the blonde turning around, boring into him with those sharp eyes. He just wanted to be; be still, be silent, hold this confusing new Spike close and pretend for a minute that no harsh words had ever passed between them. Somewhere in between wanting to save Spike and kissing him, he'd developed a craving for the vampire. He wanted Spike's time, his attention, his company. He wanted everything to slow down so he could catch his breath and think.

"Right," Spike said in an affectionate sounding voice, "while you're at it, why not wish for a million dollars and a pony?"

So, he'd said that last bit out loud. And wasn't that just the craptastic icing on his shit cake? Tell the soul who's stuck between Hell and Earth that you're feeling just a bit down, and would he mind if you stopped trying to rescue him just for a minute? Great, just great…

"Yeah," Xander said again. "I'll be sure to add that to my list."

Spike snorted softly, and then said, "Is any of this real?"

Of all the things Spike could say at that moment, from comments about the weather to innuendos of what two blokes could do in a dark room, that was absolutely positively the last thing Xander expected. He lay there, curled around Spike and buried his face in the soft folds at the back of Spike's neck. What could he say?  
"I don't know," Xander finally admitted.  "I think it's as real as we want it to be."

Spike nodded at that bit of complete bullshit, stray hairs tickling Xander's nose. Xander could feel Spike's fingers tracing nonsense patterns on his hand, little loops and swirls that meant nothing. Nothing but the sensation of flesh on flesh, making them both real.

"I've got memories," Spike told him. "Memories of a cage, blinding white and burning my eyes; memories of soldiers and doctors and pain. "

"I know," Xander said soothingly, grabbing for those nimble fingers and stilling them. "I know."

  
"I was never there." Spike's voice was halting, uncertain. " I never was but I remember. I remember so many things, Xan. I can see the Slayer and she's…dead an' alive, angry an' singing."

It was Xander's turn to nod. He had the same confused memories, the same dizzying sense of being so many different people. Times when he understood with perfect clarity who he was and what he needed to do, and other times like now, when he was suspended in a heat haze of ignorance.

"So many things," Spike went on lazily. "Who am I, Xander?"

"I can't explain myself," Xander quoted dreamily, " because I'm not myself, you see."

Spike laughed, a low peal that sounded sweet and painful in Xander's ears. He listened hard, drinking in the sound to fix it in his unstable memory. He was forgetting things and he didn't want to forget this, the sound of Spike laughing in his arms.

"Down the bloody rabbit hole," Spike chuckled. "Yeah, sounds about right. Nothing would what is was, because everything would be what it isn't."

"Have we reached contrariwise yet," Xander asked, a little desperate now.

"Don't think so," Spike answered thoughtfully. "Got a ways to go to get to contrariwise, mate. Miles and miles…"

"The woods are lovely, dark and deep," Xander mused dreamily. "I read that so many times, after you died. Promises to keep and I knew that you'd understand. Do you?"

Spike shrugged, his body contorting in Xander's hold. Xander could only nuzzle deeper, trying to stop time. Not for good, not for long, just enough to let him pull Spike inside him. Inside where he could keep him safe, take him along so he'd never lose him.

"Didn't know you liked poetry," Spike murmured, acquiescing to Xander's silent plea for closer closer closer. "Tell me your favorite, then."

"I like my body," Xander whispered, hand pressed flat to Spike's stomach. "When it is with your body. It is so quite a new thing. I read that and I thought of you. Wondered how it would feel, my body with your body."  
A whisper of cloth and Xander's hand was moving downwards, following the thin line of hair on Spike's belly. Spike's back arched, and he pushed into the fingers Xander clasped around his erection. Xander breathed in, feeling the shock of connection.

"More," Spike commanded him, and Xander's fingers twitched, eager to comply.

"I like your body," Xander whispered, the words carried on short puffs of air. "I like its hows."

Xander glided up and down the rigid shaft of Spike's cock, tugging and teasing the firm flesh. He wanted to turn Spike over, to see the blonde's face but he didn't. This wasn't, Xander thought, about seeing. It was about feeling.

"More," Spike repeated, but his voice was shaking. His body, pulled taut, vibrated and Xander wanted to ease that tension. Give Spike something to add to his collection of screwed up memories and half-forgotten life.

"I like slowly stroking the shocking fuzz of your electric fur," Xander told him pleadingly, "and what is it comes over parting flesh."

Xander moved faster now, his own body aching to finish. He remembered this feeling, knew it intimately. The more more now demands of a body that filled your head with cotton and dragged you along in its wake.

"And possibly," Xander moaned, rocking his pelvis against Spike," I like the thrill of under me you quite so new."

Spike trembled, pushing his cock through the tunnel of Xander's fist and the ungh ungh sound that resonated in this throat rumbled down Xander's spine and straight to his dick. He felt the tepid splash of Spike's orgasm on his fingers, and Xander thrust forward again, his own release tumbling hard on the heels of his lover's.

They lay there, both panting and wide-eyed in the darkness. The knock at the door roused only a grumble from both men.

"Xander," Cordelia called out, "get your ass in gear."

And as the world came rushing back and the light spilled in from the hallway, Xander thought he heard a carousel in the distance. Well, he bitched to himself as he sat up, isn't that what life's all about? Painted wooden horses and shiny brass rings, here I come….


	14. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories.

A/N II: I want to say thank you to everyone who has commented on this story. I really do appreciate each and every comment. They definitely keep me motivated!

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

Xander shuffled, squinting, out into the hallway. He waited, blinking and rubbing his eyes. He thought grumpily that Cordelia had better be dying for this interruption to be worth it, then instantly felt guilty.

Once again, the carpenter scores, he groaned inwardly. After all, she's only had her life and her brain turned upside down by these visions. But let's ignore that in favor of finally getting close to Spike.

"Repeat after me," Xander muttered. "My dick does not defeat evil."

A rusty chuckle echoed hollowly from the bedroom. Xander blushed slightly, as he realized that once again he'd been speaking out loud. Obviously, this needed to stop. He'd gotten used to talking to himself since he spent the majority of his time alone.

Xander frowned. He didn't spend all his time alone. Between work and the Scoobies, he couldn't remember the last time he'd been alone. But, he distinctly remembered long days and nights of solitude with only his own voice for company.

Xander moved back into the bedroom, kneeling down in front of Spike. He dropped his head onto Spike's lap, unsure if he was seeking solace or offering it. Things were getting crazy and the only thing he was completely one hundred percent about was Spike.

He just sat there, silent and calm. Finally, he felt Spike's hand fall lightly on his head. The touch, soft and almost reluctant, was a benediction. Here in the dark, with no words to confuse their thoughts or mangle their memories, Xander believed that he and this strange vampire could reach a state of grace.

"You came back," Spike whispered.

"I'll always come back for you," Xander answered and even in the jumble of his memories, this was true.

He'd hated this demon, mocked his pain, and attacked him. But he'd never abandoned him, never refused his presence.

"I think I've always been here," he said to Spike quietly.

Spike didn't say anything and strangely, that was okay. It was enough that they were here, in the dark, together. Xander wondered if the power of the wish rested in demons that didn't go in for vengeance. He thought it must, because this was his wish; just sitting back and breathing, letting the world pass them by while they rested.

A large form blocked the light, throwing shadow over his face. Xander knew he should look up, but he didn't. He just sat there, finally calm and at peace.

"Xander," and the voice was familiar and caring. "Xander, it's okay."  
Xander didn't respond. He knew it was okay. It was dark and cool and Spike was touching him.

"Wes," the voice called out, soft and unhurried, "I think I'm gonna need some help here. Get Cordy and tell her to bring the potion."

Xander felt like those words should be important. Somewhere in his brain, a voice sussurated and burbled about potions being important. He just breathed, drawing the drugging scents of whiskey and smoke deeper inside his lungs.

"Xander, I need you to listen to me," and a finger tugged at his chin, trying to pull his face away from Spike. "You're sick. Cordy's bringing medicine and you have to take it in order to get better."

Xander resisted the finger, pulling himself back towards Spike. Every inch away from Spike was another piece of himself lost. The finger released his chin and Xander sighed, sliding back to his original position.

Another voice, soft and indistinct, crept into his ears. He stopped listening, focusing instead on the slow steady rustle of Spike's fingers carding through his hair. Spike was breathing, another slow steady sound that filled Xander's body. He clung desperately to those sounds, that touch, to keep from disintegrating.

"Xander," another voice, just as familiar. "Spike is sick. He can't get well unless he drinks this. Will you help me? I need you to drink this or Spike will die."

Xander instantly opened his mouth. Spike had to live. Spike had to stay and keep Xander from breaking apart. A bitter taste flooded Xander's mouth and he recoiled slightly, but continued to drink. Spike. This was for Spike.

As soon as the noxious fluid hit his stomach, the world snapped back into place. Xander looked up to see Cordelia's face, anxious and pinched, inches away from him. He smiled at her and she rocked back on her heels, returning his smile.

"Better?" she asked him.

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "That was weird, even by Hellmouth standards. What the hell?"

"Come on." Cordy stood and held out a hand. "I'll tell you downstairs."

Xander looked up at Spike, and said, "Give me a minute."

He wasn't sure if he could explain, but apparently he didn't have to because Cordy just left, taking Angel and Wesley with her. Xander's eyes never left Spike, and he tried to think of what to say.

"So," he began, "think this could get any more fucked up?"

Spike nodded wordlessly, not meeting Xander's gaze. Xander stood, running a hand through his hair. His own touch seemed coarser now in comparison with the gentle, almost reverent, fingers that had kept him anchored to the world.

" I remember now," Xander tried again. "Everything from before, all the ugliness and stupidity. And I remember how it's changed…changing."

Spike nodded again, and Xander leaned over, a hand on Spike's shoulder. This man, who in another reality had loomed so large, now seemed fragile. Xander knew that the wrong word would shatter Spike, maybe irrevocably.

He put his lips to Spike's forehead and whispered, "Thank you."

Spike jerked away, head snapping back. His eyes, large and disbelieving, filled Xander's vision. Xander knew that old memories are sometimes the most painful. Hell, he had a head full of them himself.

"You were the only thing that kept me from fracturing," Xander told him earnestly. "Your touch, your scent, it was all that stood between me and whatever it was that gave us that little side trip to crazy. Thank you."

Spike smiled at him, and it was a heartbreaking smile. Xander inhaled sharply, trying to ease the lead that invaded his chest. He might have had a less than sane moment, but it had been beautiful. His entire world had shrunk to the feel of Spike's skin and the sound of Spike's breath. He'd never been so totally involved in another being like that, and he wanted it again.

Xander was determined not to screw this up. This whole damn trip had been about fixing mistakes, not making new ones. He smiled back, and cupped his hand around Spike's head. A last kiss and nobody would deny him that, right?

He ghosted his lips over Spike's and tasted salt. He let go, and looked down. A shimmering droplet clung to those full lips, and he realized his face was wet.

"Xander…" Spike held out a hand but Xander could only shake his head.

"Thank you," he said again. "It was…it was…I never thought I'd feel like that."

Xander turned away regretfully and began to walk out of the room. A firm hand grabbed him around the waist and spun him. He grunted when he collided with Spike. They stood there, nose to nose for a long moment.

"Going to walk out without giving me my say," Spike said conversationally. "Not bloody likely."


	15. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: I know, I confused the hell out everyone last chapter. I promise, all will be explained...in the next chapter! *ducks* X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories.

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

Xander closed his eyes, body rigid. He'd rather just skip all this and get to the graceful exit portion of the conversation. Not like he'd never been rejected before. He already knew the speech by heart. This time, it hurt rather than stung.

Not like he blamed Spike. Shit, they didn't exactly part with hugs and kisses. Before now, the only touching that happened between them was of the violent kind. Jesus, he'd held a stake to Spike's chest and unlike Buffy, he'd fully intended to use it.

Anya had screamed at him, called him a scared, insecure little boy and she'd been right. He hadn't loved Spike, then. He was too frightened of himself to even think about things like that. No, he'd hated Spike because Spike was more of a man. He'd stood and took everything the world threw at him. No backing down or hiding for the Big Bad and Xander wanted that, wanted to be like that.

It had taken a lot of whiskey and a few years alone to figure out how to take it. Now that he was finally ready to give…this was tragically hysterical. No, he didn't blame Spike. He just wanted to finish this up, make a new reality and get on with his life. Whatever that was in a new reality.

"Look at me." Spike was close his words vibrated Xander's skin.

Xander thought about refusing. Keeping his eyes closed was childish, but he figured that if a freight train was going hit you anyways, there was no reason to watch it happen. But, Spike had earned, more than earned, his pound of flesh. So if he wanted to watch Xander crumble, Xander was going to let him. He opened his eyes and stared straight at Spike.

"Better," Spike said, and moved back fractionally. "Now let me see if I got this right. Spent so much time around you bleedin' Scoobys, I'm betting I can map this out."

Spike's lips quirked into something that wasn't quite a smile and wasn't quite a sneer. Xander zeroed in on those mobile, firm lips. He knew what they tasted like, how they felt under his. His tongue snaked out in an almost unconscious attempt to taste Spike again.

"Right, so it goes something like this," Spike said, changing the pitch of his voice to a rough approximation of Xander's. "Oh woe is me, a Scooby far from home. I must do my heroic bit for the puppies and squishy souled vampires of the world. But, wait! I'm havin' quivery feelings for Spike. I'll just keep that a secret for a while then spring it on him all sudden like. That way, when he's good an' gobsmacked, I'll be able to prance away like the bleedin' martyr that I am."

Spike looked at him, eyes intent and serious. Xander swallowed convulsively, stuck between maniacal laughter and gut busting sobs. It hadn't been anything like that, but he supposed it must look that way.

"So, have I got it about right," Spike queried cheerfully.

"You missed the bit where I went temporarily bugfuck," Xander pointed out huskily. "Also, my feelings for you are not quivery. Girls quiver. I am not in a way a girl."

"Too right," Spike agreed. "So, what are your feelings? For the sake of clarity."

Xander blinked. He sucked at this part. He wasn't exactly great at manly or girly displays of emotion.

"For the sake of clarity," Xander nodded at Spike. "I have no goddamned idea."

"Well that's a new twist on an old tale," Spike replied. "Not madly in love with me, than?"

"Shit," Xander chuckled. "You tell me what love is and I'll tell you if I love you. I know that you're the only thing that makes sense right now. I know when I touch, my skin snaps and sizzles. The thought of you not being here fucking hurts. Is that love? Fuck if I know, Spike."

Xander stepped back, tense and almost angry. He was sick of this. Sick of not knowing what to say, sick of being worried that he was ruining reality again. He was starting to miss his crazy. At least when he was crazy, he knew what was going on. Crazy was a safe place to be.

"You're asking me what love is," Spike snorted. "Not sure I'd know if it jumped up and beat me bloody. 'S what I thought love was, once upon a time. Thought it needed fire and blood and pain. Now? I think I'd like to sit a bit further from the fire."

Xander smiled at that. No need for deep thought on that. He'd heard enough details, or at least round about references to, the Spike and Buffy show to know what Spike was talking about.

"So here we are," Spike smirked. "Two truly damaged blokes with a yen for each other."

"Ah," Xander said in a deep and knowing way. "But, is it love?

"Might be, pet," Spike answered him. "Might be. So what's say we go find the others and get a good explanation?"

It might be. That was enough for now. Xander jerked his head towards the door and Spike sketched a little bow. They headed down the stairs, and just as they reached the bottom, Xander took a deep breath and turned to Spike.

"It might be love," he said in satisfaction.

Spike looked at him, and sighed in that put upon way he must have spent an entire unlifetime perfecting. He nodded and Xander could only smile.  
"Than I guess it's okay for me to do this," Xander concluded, and leaned in to capture Spike's lips.

They were just like he remembered them, slightly cooler than his own and damn delicious. He pressed forward, his tongue lapping at the seam. Spike's lips parted and Xander dove in, sweeping up through the moist cavern.

He pulled back abruptly, and smiled again. With that, he strolled off towards Angel's office, whistling under his breath.


	16. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Okay, hopefully this clears up a few of your questions. We're coming into the home stretch here, so I'm thinking two or three more chapters at the most and this wild and crazy ride will come to an end. X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories...

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

"So," Xander drawled, rubbing his hands together. "Who wants to explain the incredible shrinking sanity bit to me?"

Cordy smiled tightly and replied, "So glad you're feeling better, Xander. What's say we go get something to eat? You must be famished!"

Xander stared at her quizzically. Sure, food would be nice. But unless he was sadly mistaken, the extra-loud voice and pointed gesturing meant that he was in trouble. He'd only been in the room for thirty seconds and he was already on somebody's shit list? Not only a speed record, but also pretty damn confusing.

"Uh, Cordy," he began," I just want…"

"Something. To. Eat," she ground out and grabbed him by the arm.

"Yep," he acquiesced. "That's me, a raging black pit of hunger. I'll just go with you and get to eating."

Growing up in Sunnydale required a lot of things. The Hellmouth demanded courage, a strong stomach, and a certain skill at rationalizing yourself away from the truth. Knowing when to back down from a clearly pissed Cordelia Chase was just another of those hometown requirements. Plus, those nails were diamond sharp and hurt like hell.

"Listen, Cordy, " he said, digging in his heels and drawing them to a stop. "I don't know what the fuck is up, but if I don't get an explanation and I mean, twenty minutes ago…"

"You'll what?" she challenged him. " Stand there and look grouchy at me? Please, spare me."

He sighed. Never try to outdo a clear leader in the field and no one but no one got the best of Queen C in the sniping department. He ran a hand over his eyes, wondering if people actually got migraines from frustration.

"Please," he tried again. "Just tell me what's up, okay? I don't know why you've got the death look on, but I didn't do anything. Yet. So, mind playing catch up for the viewers at home?"

"Fine," she told him and she just deflated in front of him. All the starch and fire in her body just evaporated and she slumped against the wall.

"Cordy, whatever it is, I can't help if I don't know," he said softly, rubbing a hand against her arm.

"He doesn't remember," she whispered.

"He who and what doesn't he remember?"  
"Angel," Cordy explained. "You remember your 'incredible shrinking sanity bit'?"

"Kinda hard to forget," Xander said wryly. "What with the feelings of certain doom and internal implosion."

"Yeah, well, you weren't the only one to get that. Angel and Spike were both affected, just not quite so bad." Cordy closed her eyes and it was the closest Xander had ever seen her come to crying.

He pulled her into the circle of his arms and just held on. Whatever had the power to knock down Cordelia wasn't something Xander thought he could beat down. But, he could be here to pick up her pieces when she was through.

"What happened to us," he asked softly. "And why weren't our two favorite vamps as bad off."

Cordy stepped away from him and stood upright. That's my girl, Xander cheered silently. Never let'em see you…well, not sweat because Cordy wouldn't stoop to something as blue collar as sweating. Whatever it was, she clearly had no intention of letting anyone see her do it.

"It was…" she stopped, struggling for words. "I'm not entirely sure. Some kind of mystical reality thing. Like, you were in too many places at once. It caused the barriers in your mind to start unbarriering."

"O-kay," Xander said slowly. "That kinda makes sense, actually. And the potion you fed me was, what? A reintegration drink?"

"Basically," she admitted. "The Oracles gave me the recipe."

"The Oracles?" Xander couldn't hide his shock. She'd gone without him? She'd said he and Spike were crucial.

"Turns out that no matter what reality we're in, Angel is an overprotective ass." Cordy grimaced. "He found out what I was planning and insisted he be the one to help. So I had my Champion."

Xander smiled at that pronouncement. She might nag Angel to tears, and keep on him like a Fury until he begged for a stake, but there was truth in those words. He really was her Champion.

"So?"

"So," Cordelia took a deep breath. "I'm a demon now."

Huh. That didn't sound as odd as it should have. He shook his head, trying to figure out when he'd lost his marbles. Nope, he could still hear them rattling around up there.

"A demon," he repeated.

"Well, only partly," she conceded. "The visions were never meant for a pure human. It takes a demon's constitution to bear them. Last time, I got a sucker's deal from some unknown chump demon and therein lies massive badness. This time, I decided to go straight to the source."

"Uh-huh," Xander said skeptically. "What kind of part-demon are you?"

"Succubus from the smell of things," a low voice said from the shadows. "Explains why she looks good enough to eat."

"Thanks so much, Spike," Cordelia said in annoyance. "Coming from a vampire that's so not a compliment I ever want to get again."

"Ta," the vampire smirked. " 'S true, though. Gives you a little extra shine, makes you draw the blokes in like bees. Have fun takin' your little flower out for a night on the town."

  
"Getting back to the whole reality thing," Xander tossed out hastily. No way did he want to be witness to a showdown between the two most famous snarkers to ever hit Sunnydale. The explosion might actually have the power to take down whole city blocks.

"Right." Cordy turned her attention back to Xander. " The potion I gave you was meant to snap you back into…I don't know, alignment or whatever. It's the same one I gave Spike."

"But, Peaches got something different," Spike said shrewdly. "A little forgetting potion, maybe?"

"No," Cordelia snapped. "He got one that drew him fully into this reality."

"You…you wiped out his memories?" Xander tried to keep the freak out of his voice, but he knew it was still there. That was just…wrong. Memories were the only thing they had, it made them who they were. Screwing with somebody's memories was the closest thing to murder without actually wielding a weapon.

"NO," Cordy screamed. "He did! He s-said he wanted to forget. The things he'd done in the other reality were s-so horrible and…"

"Yeah," Spike told her gently. "They were. Nobody should have to live with that, and I can't say as I blame him for wanting a better reality."  
"What the fuck," Xander hissed at Spike. "You're just okay with this? Angel decides he's had enough and poof! One clean slate coming up? How the fuck is that okay?"

Spike stared at him, eyes hard. Xander didn't flinch. He'd been on the receiving end of the patented Big Bad glare too many times to start being terrified now.

"His choice," Spike enunciated, voice cold and clipped. "You ever been responsible for the death of everyone you loved? Lost your friends and family to an evil you helped create? Didn't think so. Before you go callin' Angel weak, think about what's roamin' around his mind and compare it to yours."

Xander damn near growled at that. They all had things they wanted to forget, ugliness they wished they'd never seen. How come Angel got a free pass while they had to suffer?

"Knock it off right now, Xander Harris." Ouch, the full name meant he was dead in the water. Screw that, he thought mulishly. He was all growed up now and he'd be damned if he'd take a lecture now.

"No, I won't," Xander tossed back at the pretty brunette. "I'm sick and tired of this bullshit game. I'm the one whitewater rafting through reality, but I don't get a say in what happens? Well, I quit. Officially and irrevocably. Find somebody else to take this sucker's gig."

"So much for being the big hero," Spike spat at him. "You wanted to know what love is, Xan-der? It's going through hell for somebody else without thinkin' about yourself. It's taking the pain so someone else doesn't have to. Care to wager how often Angel's done that? Give the man his bloody peace and stop whinging."

Just like that, Xander felt his righteousness fly out the window. Spike was right. He'd started this whole crazy thing to save his friends. He thought about Anya, sitting back in Sunnydale with Tara and a whole new life ahead of her. And Spike, standing in front of him and spitting mad instead of being tormented in some hell dimension.

"So Angel doesn't remember anything from the other reality," he said quietly.

"No," Cordy told him, glaring at him. "He remembers the reality where Xander Harris was kind to him and helped save him. He remembers the reality where he and Buffy managed to get back together in some deranged parody of a relationship."

"If this reality is so much better than that other one," Xander argued, "why did your friend have to die? Couldn't you have fixed that? I'm not seeing a huge difference here."

Cordy looked at him with something akin to pity in her eyes. Spike merely bristled, which Xander decided to count as a win. It was a step down from active loathing, at any rate.

"Some things are just meant to be," she said sadly. "Nothing anyone does can alter fate, Xander. Not me, not you, and maybe not even The Powers. Some things just have to happen."

Xander let that fact simmer in his brain. Fate always seemed like a weak excuse to him. It was what people said when they couldn't admit that life had gone to shit. Nothing you can do, they'd say. It was just fate.

If fate was real, if it really controlled certain things, what did that mean? How could he fix things if they existed beyond his control? He thought about Buffy. She knew for certain that people would always die at the hands of demons. No matter how good she was, or how much she patrolled, some demon would slip by her and an innocent would die.

He'd asked her about that once. She'd looked at him, forlorn and a bit wistful. She told him that the only thing she could ever do was her best. She couldn't save the world, no matter how many times she'd saved the world. She saved who she could and prayed for the rest.

Xander wasn't sure that was good enough for him. Who wouldn't he be able to save? Which one of his friends would slip between his fingers?

"This sucks," he muttered. "How can I make things any better if I can't fight fate?"

"Do you want a hat?" Cordy patted his shoulder sympathetically.

"A hat?" Xander looked at her, a little dazed.

"For your pity party," she clarified. "I could get you a hat and some streamers, maybe a cake…"

"Jesus," Xander groaned. "Spike, help me!"

"S'pose I can," Spike grinned maliciously. "For a price."

"You're charging me?" Xander injected a little shock into his voice. Always play along with the Big Bad. Ah, another of the incredible SunnyD life lessons.

"Don't worry," Spike assured him, which immediately made Xander worry. "You can afford it."

"I can?" Wow, that sounded suspiciously like a yelp. Better ignore it or it might happen again.

"Definitely," Spike told him as he raked his eyes over Xander. "Now, Princess, since you're all sorted, mind if we borrow Angel? Got a spot of trouble back in Sunnyhell…"

Spike led Cordelia off, rapidly explaining the Initiative and how the L.A team could help. Xander watched them go, wondering if it was possible to be both frightened and horny at the same time.

He laughed out loud at his own thoughts. Simultaneous fear and arousal described the entirety of his sex life. He wasn't even sure he could get turned on without that little edge of fear.

Still, he wasn't turning his back on Spike. Well, not without a little foreplay anyways. Beyond that, he'd just do his best and pray. If it worked for Buffy, he supposed it was good enough for him.


	17. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Remember how this was all from Xander's perspective? Yeah, this story isn't really working out the way I'd intended...  
X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories

_   
**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

  
It was interesting, Spike reflected, on how much could change after death. Whole realities could rise and fall, memories displaced and returned, and a glorified bricklayer could become a warm, thoughtful man. Still a pain in the ass, but a thoughtful pain in the ass.

Xander was relaxed, more relaxed than Spike could ever remember seeing him. He leaned back in the driver's seat, two fingers on the wheel. There was silence, but nothing ugly. In Spike's experience, Xander's quiet meant pain or embarrassment. This man, he could handle a silence, didn't feel the need to fill it up with yammering. It was nice. It was interesting. It was…incredibly disturbing.

"You know," Xander smiled at him, "I could get you a camera."

"A camera?" Spike tried to figure out how he'd missed a whole discussion on cameras.

"So you could take a picture," Xander explained. "You're staring."

"Oh." Spike shrugged. "Sorry."

"No, you really aren't."

"You're right," Spike agreed. "I'm not."

Death gave a man certain liberties. Well, coming back from death did, at any rate. If Buffy could hate fuck him and half-destroy herself after her resurrection, Spike figured he could stare all he wanted.

"Angel," Xander said quietly. "He really is…different now, isn't he?"

Spike snorted. Different was hardly the right word. Miraculously transformed, perhaps or blessed beneficiary of a complete personality transplant. Different barely covered it.

"What clued you in, pet? The hearty hug he gave you or the great big smile he sported when he saw me?" Spike asked dryly.

"Neither," Xander laughed. "Gotta say those were both bizarre in their own way, but not exactly worrying. It was…he's not angry anymore."

Spike nodded at that. Angel, or at least the Liam he'd been, was by all reports a pretty screwed up boy. Not surprising, that. Vampires rarely stumble upon the happy and well adjusted, much less decide to keep them for eternity. But, he'd never known any version of Angel that wasn't simmering with anger. To see Angel without that coating of wrath was strange.

"Guess that means somethin' good, yeah? Must be this brave new world taking shape around us," Spike replied diffidently.

Xander looked at him, eyes full of shadows and questions. Spike met those eyes, but he didn't speak. He'd learned to keep his counsel. His time at Wolfram &amp; Hart had been awful, but he'd learned. Sometimes, silence was the better road.

A brave new world, yeah. A world where he was a wiling ally of the Slayer, not her punching bag or her wind-up fuck toy. A world where Xander kissed him in exquisite silence and jacked him to poetry. A world with no chip to hold him back and a soul he'd never sought straining inside him.

Spike shivered suddenly, feeling the collision of memories with tangible force. He could remember the other world perfectly, as clearly as he remembered this new one.  He and Buffy were matched now in deaths to save the world. But he hadn't gotten quite her reward. No vampire ever dies in a state of grace, he reminded himself. No matter what Angel believed, the road to hell was the only one open to them.

"Covered in blood," he murmured.

"What is," Xander asked, voice hushed and thick.

"The road to hell," Spike answered abstractly. "It's a road covered with blood."

"I imagine so," Xander said. "A lot to clean up before you can go forward."

"Is that what you really think," Spike sneered. "You think that if I just rescue enough puppies, I'll be sanctified?"

"I hope so," Xander told him seriously. "Your soul should be. Why punish you for something you didn't do? Or worse, punish you after doing so much good."

Spike shook his head, amazed at Xander's naiveté. It constantly astonished him how Xander and the other Scoobies, could look evil in the face night after night and still not understand a thing about it.  Was the world really so black and white to them?

"What do you see when you look at me," he asked flatly. "A man? A soul? It's not like that, Xander. It's never that simple."

Xander, stubborn stupid Xander, glared at him darkly. Spike had seen that look a hundred times in the basement and on patrol. It had one clear meaning. Idiot.

"You think that because I lost my soul that I get a free pass," he continued. "Not bloody likely. Or, even better, you think since I got turned that I'm not responsible? Think again, luv."

The car slowed, and Xander drove to the edge of the road. That irritating sign stood, a beacon of Hellmouth intent, and Spike wholeheartedly wished Xander would run it down. Why bother announcing the evil of this town when anyone with half a brain could feel it in their bones?

"Explain," Xander said as he turned off the engine. "Now."

Spike shifted in his seat. He'd do this the right way, facing the crowd like a true gentleman. Not sporting to deny the spectators their pound of flesh, is it?

"No one makes you a demon," Spike began quietly. "You have to want it. Darla, Angel, me…even Dru, we all made a choice. Your Sire can't force you to drink. We damned ourselves, Xander. This soul? It's nothing on the scales because this soul choose its fate."

Xander remained silent, eyes black in the gloom of the car. Spike heartily wished for a cigarette, or better yet a weapon. Something to hold in his hands, keep him from regretting his honesty.

"You chose this," Xander stated, no hint of question in his voice.

"I did," Spike confirmed unnecessarily. "Christ, I bloody well begged for it. You see the soul and the demon as separate. But, they aren't. They're both me, Xander. Angel had his soul when Buffy thrust that sword in and he still had to do his time. We, he and I, were both damned a hundred times over."

"For one fucking choice!" Xander's voice was knife-sharp, echoing in the confines of the car.

"It's a pretty important choice, luv," Spike riposted. "Even if we'd never killed a single being, we chose damnation."

Xander reached for keys and the engine roared to life. Spike sat back in his seat, a low sigh escaping his lips. He still wasn't sure that he'd done the right thing by telling Xander the truth. It had to be told, though. He could burn up for the world every day and twice on Sundays and it still wouldn't save him. Some choices you couldn't take back.

"No." The soft word floated over Spike, and he looked over at Xander quizzically. "I don't accept that."  



	18. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Did you ever have a fic run away from you? Good, that means it's not just me. I feel better now. X-posted to [](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/profile)[**darker_spike**](http://community.livejournal.com/darker_spike/) for challenge reasons, posted here for my memories.

  


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**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

  
"No." The words flew from his mouth. "I don't accept that."

Xander could feel the muscle in his jaw twitching. The pounding in his head was a nice counterpoint to the throbbing bass pouring out of the speakers. His hands clenched around steering wheel, knuckles blazing white from the strain.

"Not about accepting." Spike's voice was thick, heavy with exhaustion or irritation or something. Xander never paid much attention to those feeling charts Willow waived in his face. Who needed to differentiate between mad and angry? I'll take "people who love vampires" for a thousand, Alex.

Shit! Shitshitshit! This was not in the fucking mission description. Sure Cordy, I'll go out and save reality as we don't know it. Fall in love with a vampire? Don't mind if I do, thanks.

"You know Spike, for all the years you spent with us, you never did learn much," Xander ground out. "I'm a Scooby. Impossible is what we do, remember? I don't accept this, that no matter what you're bound for hell. Fuck that."

"A bit testy, mate," Spike observed wryly. "Not like you'll have to follow me down."

Xander spun the steering wheel, swerving the car over the curb and into Buffy's driveway. He sat there, engine running, for a full minute while he tried to calm down. Of all the things he'd done and seen, the worst had been that fake vision that showed him how close he was to becoming his father. He'd worked hard to leave that behind and he wasn't going to start backsliding now.

He switched the car off, and turned to face Spike. The vampire's face stood out among the shadows, almost incandescent. I was blind but now I see, Xander thought furiously. How do I make you see, you smug fucker?

"Listen to me, Spike. I don't care if I've got reserved seats for the Express to heaven." Xander could hear his own voice, the words so cold they left icicles on his tongue. "Maybe you got your vampire Zen working here, but I will not leave you to rot. So fuck you and fuck any Power that tries to stand in my way."

Xander struggled, closing his eyes in an effort to tamp down the rising fury. It flooded his body, the heat moving from his belly to his chest. The snick of the door opening undid all his efforts.

He opened his eyes and saw Spike leaving. Like this was just an ordinary day, thanks for the lift, Harris. The scream lodged in his throat and Xander slid silently across the seat.

He tackled Spike, shoving the slighter man into the ground. Spike thrashed underneath him, cursing violently. Xander knew he was out of control and he couldn't stop. Didn't want to stop, truthfully. He wanted. Wanted to save, to hurt, to hate, to love. He just wanted.

He pushed forward, sinking his teeth into the back of Spike's neck. The vampire howled, shuddering and bucking underneath him. The friction had Xander's head spinning.

"Stop," he hissed into Spike's ear. "I swear, if you make me shoot in my jeans, I will make you regret it."

Spike stilled instantly. Xander dropped his head until it met Spike's. Spike could have tossed him aside easily. He knew it and he knew Spike knew it. So why didn't Spike just throw him off?

Xander answered that one. Fear. He'd been at the mercy of humans too long. Hell, from the bits and pieces he'd heard, this had been Buffy's preferred method of foreplay. No wonder Spike just laid there.

How did I get here, he thought desperately. Jesus, I attack him and then I threaten him. Way to go, Harris. Would you like a case of alcoholism to go with your abusiveness?

Xander trembled, his anger giving way to shock. He'd just lost his shit and attacked Spike. For no better reason than Spike walking away from him. He pressed his lips into Spike's hair and whispered, "I'm sorry."

It was crap. A shit apology for actions Xander knew he could never take back. He stood up, and turned to go. No way he could face Spike, not after this. So much for your love, he berated himself.

"Xander." That one word stopped him cold. He stood frozen, waiting for the blows or the screaming. When Spike's hand touched his, he flinched.

"You know, when I…at the wedding, I swore I'd never hurt another person I loved. Pretty damn easy promise to keep when you don't have anyone to love. That…what I just did…there's no excuse, Spike." Xander stared up at the sky, unable to turn and face the man he'd attacked. "I…Jesus, I just…I lost it. I hate this, I hate that you're so willing to accept hell and I lost it."

Spike's hand snaked up his arm, pulling at him anxiously. Xander didn't struggle or pull away. Whatever Spike was going to do, he more than had it coming.

The lips were a surprise. Spike's hands were fisted in his hair, and the mouth that covered his was gentle, welcoming. That agile tongue was flickering around his, tempting, teasing. Xander gave in with a low groan, falling into this sweet kiss with his whole heart.

Spike pulled away first, leaving Xander dazed. He swayed slightly, reaching up to touch his own lips. They felt hot and swollen. Xander could only stare at the blonde in front of him, shocked.

"Still a demon," Spike told him huskily. "No matter how much I want to be a man, I never will be. But for what it's worth, I love you."

Spike spun on his heel, striding back toward the house. Xander watched him go, uncertain if he'd been forgiven or condemned. A firm hand on his shoulder shook him out of his stupor.

"He's a damn fine kisser, isn't he," Angel asked casually.

"Uh." Xander looked over at Angel. He figured he'd get his words back soon, but right now he was confined to basic noises.

"Yeah," Angel smiled at him. "That was pretty much how I reacted the first time he planted one on me. Come on. Looks like inquiring minds want to know."

Xander followed Angel's pointing finger and saw that Buffy's porch was packed. The entire gang plus was standing there, watching him. That meant they'd probably seen the whole thing, from scary to sensual.

"I am so screwed." Oh yay, Xander thought blankly. My words came back.

"Yeah," Angel repeated with a gusty sigh. "That was my second thought after he kissed me. It's worth it, though."

Xander nodded and followed Angel. He didn't have a choice. There wasn't a person on that porch that couldn't run him down if he fled. Hell, even Dawn did a better mile than he did.

"Wait," Xander stopped dead. "Dawn?"


	19. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

| 

  
[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
---|---  
  
  
Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Phew! I'm finishing this one up under the gun. I'll be posting the epilogue tonight, but this is the final chapter. I'm sure there will be questions, but like I said, I'm doing an epilogue to wrap it up. Thanks to everyone who read and commented! I genuinely appreciated each and every comment!

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**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_

"Xander, dear," Joyce said softly. "Could you help me in the kitchen?"

He nodded dumbly, following behind the older woman. He'd expected Buffy to be upset, but all he saw in her gaze was a sort of sympathy.  If anyone understood the perils of dating the undead, Buffy would be that one.

"Look," Xander began, holding up a hand to stall the lecture he knew was coming, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that in front of Dawn for starters, or at all for that matter.  My temper ran away from me."

Joyce's back was to him, so he couldn't tell if his apology made any difference. She wasn't his mother, he was an adult, and none of this was anybody else's business. Yeah, Xander thought, and I'll never say any of that in a million years. Buffy might be the Chosen One but she'd earned her Boss stripes at the Joyce Summers' Leadership School. That glare was genetic.

"Xander," Joyce said softly, still gathering cups, "I'm not your mother and you're an adult. This isn't my business, but I still have to speak my mind."

Wow. Point for point and Joyce is still the Boss of Us. He had no idea if this was a woman thing or a Mom thing, but she managed to deflect every one of his arguments.

 "You're just as precious to me as my girls," Joyce continued, turning to face him. "So, forgive me for meddling but…are you sure?"

"Sure," Xander asked. "About what? About acting like the world's most abusive man? No, I am definitely not sure about that. Well, I am in the sense that I'm sure I shouldn't have done it."

Joyce smiled at him, eyes steely. He sagged under the weight of her disapproval. Damn! He'd been hoping that distraction would work, but clearly, Mom was made of sterner stuff.

"That's not what I meant," Joyce continued. "I think you know that."

"Yeah," Xander nodded. "I did. I was just hoping we could get off topic and never return. You want to know if I'm sure about Spike?"

Joyce nodded back, biting her lip. Xander smiled slightly as this familiar gesture. Buffy and Dawn did that all the time, usually when they were trying to keep themselves silent and give the other person a chance. He'd forgotten how much he really loved Buffy's Mom. She was the best.

"I'm sure," he told her firmly. "There are a million reasons why this is a bad idea and I'm sure you've got every one of those reasons catalogued. But, Spike and me…we work. Don't ask me how, because I haven't got a clue. We shouldn't work and I shouldn't feel so much for him. I do, though."

Joyce looked at him and then past him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Angel. He tilted his head, understanding instantly where this was going.

"I know you think I'm not good enough for Buffy," Angel said to Joyce, voice low. "You're right. I'm not. I know I'm not and I'm willing to bet that Spike knows he isn't good enough for Xander."

"They deserve a chance at a normal life," Joyce told Angel bluntly. "You're dead. What can you, either of you, offer them?"

"Love," Angel replied. "The kind of love that only someone with endless years can offer. Security, because we'll never leave them. And they don't have to pretend with us. We already know more evil than they'll ever be able to comprehend. It may not be your dream for them, but let them make their own choices."

Joyce and Angel stared at each other, and Xander had to wonder who would blink first. Joyce had a mother's ferocity on her side, but Angel really did have eternity. This was a grudge match. Xander knew that this was an old argument, replayed every time these two were around each other.

"Joyce," Giles broke in, the seething silence dissipating as if it'd never existed. "I couldn't help but overhear."

Judging from the assembled group standing behind Giles, the entire gang couldn't help but overhear. Well, Xander thought dazedly, shouting was hard to ignore. He could add this to his list of things he'd never imagined happening to him. A frank discussion of his relationship with a vampire definitely had not been on his to-do list.

"I can't say I approve," Giles continued, still speaking to Joyce. "But we have to trust that they know what they're doing."

"How," Joyce asked him. "How can they know? They're children."

"Children," Buffy butted in heatedly, only to be shushed by Giles. Xander admired her nerve. He might be willing to help storm the Initiative or face down a Hell God, but no way was he getting in between Joyce and Giles. That was way too scary for him.

"They are fully aware of the dangers," Giles answered her. "Not one of these children is blind to the realities of what Spike and Angel are. If they choose to continue, knowing what they know, I can't see how you or I can do anything but respect that choice."

Giles held up a hand, and rubbed his forehead. Joyce smiled, picking up a mug and handing it to him. He nodded his thanks and continued.

"You aren't happy about their choice. Neither am I. But it is their choice and that's what must be respected," Giles said, sipping at the steaming beverage in his hands. "That said, Xander have you lost your mind?"

A muffled "Oi!" came from somewhere in the crowd and Xander began to laugh. This whole scene had been so Twilight Zone that it was wonderful to have something of his remembered reality back. Angel standing up for him, Giles being supportive, those were nice. But, just a bit too unreal for him to grasp.  Giles questioning his sanity? Now, that was life as he remembered it.

"Yes," Xander answered between chuckles. "I have officially lost my mind. And you know what? I hope I never find it."

"I see," Giles responded. "Well, that's that than. Shall we get back to the small matter of destroying the Initiative, or should we continue discussing Xander's bizarre choice in... partners?"

A variety of mumbled noises asserted the group's choice to get on with things, leaving Xander weak with relief. He didn't mind everyone knowing, but sitting around discussing it was too much for him. Comfortable with himself he might be, but that didn't mean he was up for a pow-wow about his sex life. Not even Anya had been able to dull his shame in that department.

He made his way into the Summers' living room with the others. Just as he was about to sit, Spike grabbed his arm and pulled him close. They stood in the doorway, cuddling, and just as Buffy began to speak, Xander felt Spike's lips on his ear.

"Thanks, pet," Spike whispered. "Heard what you said and it meant a lot."

Xander moved his hand until it bumped Spike's. Tangling their fingers together, Xander shushed the vampire. True love and the accompanying fun would have to wait. But, it would be there. Xander was sure of that.  
 


	20. A Road Covered With Blood

  
  
  
  
  


**Entry tags:**

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[plot](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/plot), [road](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/road), [slash](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/slash), [spike/xander](http://sevendeadlyfun.livejournal.com/tag/spike%2Fxander)  
  
  
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Pairing: Xander/Spike

Rating: NC-17 overall

A/N: Whew! I made it! This has been a long strange trip and in the best of ways. Before anyone yells at me, I realize this epilogue doesn't fully wrap up the 'verse. What can I say? I'm pulling a Joss here. I may or may not revisit this series at some point, but I have a few other WiPs to work on now...so I'm calling this done. For now...

[ **All Parts In My Memories** ](http://www.livejournal.com/tools/memories.bml?user=sevendeadlyfun&keyword=A+Road+Covered+with+Blood+%28Spike/Xander%29&filter=all)

  


Xander strode behind Buffy, Spike, and Angel, still grumbling. This was stupidest plan he’d ever heard. That fact that it might actually work was mostly irrelevant. It was still stupid.

“This is the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard,” Xander groused under his breath.

“It was your idea,” Willow reminded him gently.

“Yeah and since when did you all start listening to me,” Xander complained. “I’m all unheard guy until we need a stupid plan. Then the ears perk up!”

Tara giggled softly somewhere behind him, and Xander stopped bitching long enough to let the sound wash over him. He’d missed hearing her laugh. Hell, he’d missed this. The whole gang together, going to fight evil. Of course, this hadn’t ever actually happened before. But, he’d still missed it.

He stumbled at that thought, stopping in his tracks. This was it. This was what he was supposed to do. Well, maybe.

But, it felt right. Everyone standing together, no idiotic rivalries or misunderstandings keeping them apart. This was what had been missing before, this unity and sense of purpose.

“’Bout time you figured it out. I was gettin’ worried.” The low voice, unfamiliar and strangely accented, drew his attention.

“I-I figured it out,” Xander repeated. “Really? You know, you could have just told me ahead of time, saved me the rough thinking bits.”

“Nah,” the squat man shook his head. “This needed to happen. You’re the heart, remember? You started go astray, the rest of’em had nothing to guide them. Had to be you, see? You had to learn this yourself, so they could follow.”

“Uh-huh,” Xander said quietly. “Not that I’m doubting you or anything, but who the fuck are you?”

“Whistler,” the other man said genially. “And I’m kinda your ride home.”

“Whistler,” Xander said quietly, mulling that over. “Oh yeah, I remember now. Buffy told us, said you showed up right before her big showdown with Angelus.”

“Yeah,” Whistler agreed. “Glad you fixed that up. It wasn’t supposed to go down like that. Nasty business, Acathla.”

“I remember,” Xander replied distractedly. “Well, thanks for offering me a ride, but I’m busy right now. I gotta catch up. Big battle to fight and all that.  
“You already caught up,” Whistler pointed out. “See, you’re right there.”

Xander followed the line of Whistler’s finger. Sure enough, he was still in line behind Buffy, Spike and Angel. His brow furrowed slightly as he watched himself walking away.

“How…”

“Long complicated explanation involving quantum mechanics and the space-time continuum,” Whistler replied quietly. “The simple version is that I pulled you out of this reality. Just slightly. You don’t belong here.”

“I don’t belong here,” Xander said angrily. “Well than where the hell do I belong? I thought this was my place, right? I’m the heart, leading the way, fixing reality and all that cotton candy bullshit.”

“You are and you did,” Whistler told him. “This whole trip was about you making things better and they’re better. Now, it’s time for you to get moving. Got a whole future waiting for you.”

Xander slouched, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had a whole future waiting for him that revolved around a past he’d never remember. How could he live the rest of his life not knowing where he’d been and what he’d done?

“So it’s all fixed up,” he said. “What’s that mean? How can you know that?”

“I don’t know that,” Whistler answered. “The Powers sent me, said to give you an attaboy and deposit you where you belong. So that’s what I’m doin’ ”.

Xander sighed. This was an unwinnable argument. He had the sneaking suspicion that Whistler was only being courteous and indulging the crazy human. If this guy really could send him winging his way home, he probably didn’t need Xander’s permission to do it.

“Just…I need to know,” Xander pleaded. “Do Spike and Angel ever win? Do they get to go to heaven?”

“Yeah,” Whistler told him happily. “The Powers ain’t exactly doing cartwheels, but those guys balance the scale and balance always has a say.”

Xander rocked back on his heels, lightheaded with relief. Spike wasn’t going to spend eternity enduring torture. He’d made a difference.

“All right,” Xander conceded. “I’m ready to go. Any chance I could get some substitute memories? I’m gonna look awfully stupid during those ‘Remember When’ games otherwise.”  
“You want to forget?” Whistler sounded puzzled. “Thought memories made the man?”

“They do,” Xander agreed. “But, I’m not the same I was, you know? He…I think he’s dead. I’m some new guy and I think I need those new memories.”

Whistler nodded. He beckoned Xander forward, a tiny smile crossing his features. Xander wasn’t sure that was a good smile, but he stepped up anyways. He could hear the sounds of battle ringing faintly in the background, the clash of metal on bone, the ringing of bullets and steel.

“Enjoy your new life,” Whistler grinned, giving him a hearty shove.

Xander spun around, dizziness swamping him. The ringing of steel on steel echoed in his ears, drowning out the rush and roar of air. He surrendered to the tug and pull, allowing it to carry him along. The ringing never stopped…

He batted a hand out, trying to stop the offending noise. His hand hit something solid, and he jerked upright. Bed, he was in bed and that was the phone…

He reached out, flailing desperately for the receiver. He managed to clasp it in shaky hands and brought it up to his ear.

“Huh,” he croaked, throat gone dry.

“Xander,” Cordy replied. “Get up now. Connor’s been kidnapped.”

Xander shook off sleep, rolling slightly to nudge Spike. Spike growled, burrowing under the blankets. Xander nudged again, this nudge hard enough to qualify as punch.

“Okay,” Xander told her calmly, standing up and reaching for his clothes. “Who’s got him, how long has he been gone, and are Wes and Fred okay?”

“Shurog demons, about 20 minutes, and only if your definition of okay includes complete hysterics,” Cordy summarized. “We think they’re headed your way. I saw them holding him over a seal, looked like the school basement. We’re right behind them, coming up on Sunnydale in ten.”

“Gotcha,” he mumbled, “SPIKE! Get your ass up now! Connor’s in trouble…”

Xander hung up the phone, promising Cordy they’d meet her and the L.A. gang at the high school. Spike had jumped out of bed on hearing the little boy’s name and was already dressed.

“Ready,” Spike told him unnecessarily.

“Gotta call Wills and Tara,” Xander grunted, reaching for his axe. “Might need our witchy duo on this one. Plus, they can get Dawnie working on the research.”

Spike nodded, and tossed Xander the cell phone. Xander was dialing as they hit the door, cursing under his breath. Those Shurogs were in for a huge hurt. Connor was Angel’s godchild and the Powers help anyone who even made that little boy cry.

“Wills,” he said as soon as the phone stopped ringing. “Cordy called, Connor’s been kidnapped. No. Yes. High School. Shurog demons. Can you call Tara and Anya? Oh and wake up Dawnie. I think we might need a bit more info on these bastards. Thanks. Yeah. Meet you there.”

It was times like these he wished Buffy were still alive. Sure, three witches and a vampire kept the Hellmouth reasonably free of ugly, but it wasn’t the same as having a Slayer. Still, he knew that Buffy was watching over them.

“You okay,’ Spike asked him as they broke into a fast jog.

“Fine,” Xander puffed. “Well, not fine. I’m thinking that Wes and Fred have to be out of their minds right now. Their son got stolen by demons and I’m betting they aren’t taking him out to the fair.”

Spike nodded, and Xander concentrated on keeping pace. He didn’t want to hold Spike back and risk Connor’s life. He might be in good shape, but he wasn’t exactly up to vampire speeds.

“Go,” he called to Spike. “I’ll catch up!”

Spike nodded again and took off. Xander kept running, watching his lover go. He had no doubt that Spike would get there in plenty of time to smash the demons to tiny bits. He wished again for Buffy.

“Xander,” a voice screamed and he slowed down to look around.

Cordy was leaning out of a car window and waving her arms frantically. He ran over and hopped in the back seat, being careful not to let his weapon swing around. He didn’t want decapitate anyone, after all.

“Thanks,” he huffed. “Let’s go.”

He sat back, catching his breath, when he felt something brush his arm. He jerked slightly, recoiling from the whatever it was. He looked over and saw…

“Faith?”

“Nice to see you, too,” the brunette Slayer grinned. “Angel figured this place had been Slayer-free long enough. I caught a ride, thinking you might want some extra muscle to help with the big rescue.”

Xander sighed. She wasn’t Buffy, not by a long shot. But he knew she’d been working with Angel for a few years and the word was she pulled for the good guys now. Angel had often worried about her, calling Spike to discuss redemption and souls and other stuff that mostly Xander didn’t pay attention to. But, still, she was the Slayer now and they really could use one.

“Welcome home,” he told her and meant it.

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**A Road Covered With Blood**   
_


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